Inescapable
by irishpiratess
Summary: Seven years after the war, the Minister uncovers a most shocking secret. With the truth partially exposed, the remaining of the Light must face reality and Hermione's choices. multship, MWPPera thru future.
1. The Fall of Secrecy

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** The Fall of Secrecy  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **2256  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge? **

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**

Reposting, because when I started in on chapter seven, I decided that details just had to be changed. There's not a lot that's been changed, but enough to make the rest of the story make sense later on.

**Just a hint- pay attention to who's talking and looking to whom. Lots of unexplained stuff in first chapter that'll be worked out over a nice stretch. **

**Disclaimer: Well, you see, I _tried _to buy the rights off e-Bay, but it turns out that I only bought a keychain... so, you see, I make no money from this, and this is for entertainment purposes only. I formally disclaim this story.**

* * *

"The Minister will see you now." A young receptionist glanced up at the sour-looking group in front of her desk at she spoke, sending the message that alerted her to the Minister's call away with an annoyed twitch.

The curly brown-haired woman was the first to stand, bouncing out of her seat with a determined look on her face; her expression was set in stone, fierce, angry, and unwilling to be compromised with. A tired-looking woman with a mass of red curls springing from her head followed close after, sending her friend wary, hesitant looks.

Next to stand was a man that, with his shock of messy hair, was probably the second girl's brother; tall and freckly, looking worn-down in life, he was carefully examining the back of the brown-haired girl's head as he slowly followed her towards the hallway that led to the Minister's office.

Third was a tall man, with hollow, sable eyes and hair of the same color. He was older than the first four and seemed to carry a load on his shoulders; scowling, he tried to avoid looking at the group in front of him. He glanced behind him, at an elderly woman who had been sitting on the bench, her head leaned against the wall, with her eyes closed.

"Minerva." He hissed, and the woman's eyes fluttered open.

Standing hurriedly, she fell into step beside him, looking serious, but not quite as angry as the rest.

Sighing, the remaining four stood together, with the air of someone determined to get something over with. They were two couples. One was in their mid-twenties; a brown-haired, kind-looking man with a blonde-haired, vague-looking woman. Second was a surprisingly young-looking brown-haired man with a woman whose hair seemed from a distance to be a dark brown, though it had a distinctly purple hue.

The receptionist watched this parade of people storm by her with a stirring of interest; the remains of the fabled Order of the Phoenix, though slightly aged. She had heard one of them was a werewolf; in her bored, gossiping mind, she would have guessed it to be the tall, black-haired man, as he had a distinctly unfriendly feel to him. Shrugging, she turned back to her desk and began sorting messages.

"Hermione," the redhead said tentatively, "please, whatever you do, don't-"

"Don't chastise me, Ginny." The girl who had stood first cut off her friend, glaring at her fiercely. "I'm sure I'm not the only one to come here today that's angry."

"Of course you're not." Ginny frowned. "You know how I feel about this."

"It's been seven _years_." The angry woman retorted, clenching her fists. "_Seven years_, and _now_ they want to talk to us, for Merlin only knows what."

The black-haired man was silent, lost in memory as he stared a bit of the ways ahead, past the redheaded man in front of him, but the older woman next to him was quietly talking, more to herself than anything.

"What do you possibly think they could want from us?" She asked. "The war is over, isn't that enough? Thank Merlin it is, but can't we just put all of this behind us?"

"Minerva, I highly doubt the fact any of the people here today will _ever _simply, as you put it, _put all of this behind us_." The man walking with her replied, scowling, suspiciously scanning the hall they trudged down.

Nothing out of the ordinary, of course, but years of training had made him wary and even now, he could not let it go.

The younger couple were silent, clutching to each other for support as they followed the first six down the corridor. Similarly, the purple-haired woman leaned heavily on the man she walked with, who had one arm pulling her to him, the other holding her hand.

"I didn't want to be here, Remus." She whispered to his chest.

"I know, 'Dora." He sighed, bowing his head and resting it on hers.

"You know I hate any reference to my first name." _Dora_ replied, more out of habit than anything.

"Yes, well," he smiled softly, "it would not do for me to be calling you by your surname as everyone else does."

"What's wrong with Tonks?" She said defensively.

He didn't answer, but smiled solemnly.

The two women at the front of the group stopped before the door leading to the Minister's office. Hermione lightly traced the pattern on the door, but didn't proceed.

"You all right, Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yes. I'm _fine._" Hermione snapped harshly, then her features softened. "Sorry. I'm just a little…"  
"No, I under-"

"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to get this over with." The black-haired man said loudly from his position in the middle of the group.

"Professor Snape, I do believe I'm not your student anymore, and you no longer have any authority over me." Hermione replied, eyes flashing as she sent him a burning glare. "As _if_ my being your student _ever _made a d-"

"Miss Granger," He interrupted smoothly, mouth settling into a grim line, "I believe that this meeting has been scheduled for a certain time slot, which we may entirely pass over should you decide to stand here all day."

The red-headed man sent Hermione a confused glance, and his former Professor an angry one. Professor McGonagall merely frowned up at her colleague, but remained silent.

Exhaling heavily, Hermione turned the handle and entered Minister Hall's office.

Minister Hall was your average man. Thrust into a position of authority by the lack of anyone else to do the job, he had quickly grown used to the power and comfortable with his life. He had no wife or children, and often wondered why, but often thought, secretly, it was because his former girlfriends could never handle someone who held so much power and responsibility.

Smiling vaguely to himself, he looked at the gold nameplate on his desk and wiped away an imaginary fingerprint with his sleeve. He was quite proud of himself, and sometimes seemed to conveniently forget that he had only become Minister through a series of unfortunate deaths, resignations, and firings.

The door to his office swung open, and in marched a disparate group that seemed determined not to touch or speak to one another. The nine sat in assorted chairs that had been arranged in a semi-circle in front of Minister Hall's desk, looking straight ahead and carefully avoiding each other's gazes.

"Well," Hall said jovially, "it's wonderful to see you nine were all able to make it today. Would any of you care for a drink?"

Few of the people there noticed the strange, dreading look in Hermione's eye as she eyed the bottle of brandy. Ron and his sister, Ginny observed her with a confused look on their faces; Remus eyed the younger witch warily, eyes lingering on the light reflecting through the glass bottle of brandy; and Snape raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking between the proffered bottle and his former student.

The already-angered witch clenched her fists in her lap and shook her head, lips in a tight grimace. The others took her example, declining; Hall put the bottle away, and Hermione sat back, relaxing to take in the leader of the Wizarding world.

Overweight and overindulgent in his choice in clothing, balding and with a crooked grin plastered across his face, she couldn't help but notice. Some part of her turned to anger as she saw how friendly he was trying to be. After all that he had done, he could pretend to be on friendly terms with them, the last remaining of the Light? Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she restrained from attempting to Apparate out of the room that second.

"Now, as you are all aware, the seventh anniversary of the death of Voldemort and Harry Potter are fast approaching." Hall said calmly, as if speaking of the death of their best friend so conversationally would not seem insulting. "Now, we…"

The Minister's droning voice soon became lost on most of the group, who had taken to staring at other members of the group in an offhand way, for their own particular reasons. Hermione and Professor McGonagall alone remained attentive.

Ginny stiffened visibly in her seat and clenched her fists in her lap as memories came flooding over her. Ron, sitting next to her, noticed this and reached out, momentarily letting his hand rest on her upper arm. She twitched away, momentarily angered that the person who had caused her so much pain in the past would dare to _comfort_ her, and he sighed in defeat, remaining silent.

"…and many people in the Wizarding community would like to see the people who survived the Order." Hall concluded, a slightly queasy note to his voice.

"Are you asking us for a press release?" Hermione said, a lethal edge to her voice.

"Well, I-" Hall's voice quavered under her glare, and he finally gave in. "Well, yes and no. See, we'd like to publicly reconcile our differences, exchanging our apologies-"

"No." Ginny immediately blurted, her cheeks reddening. "I _refuse_, as would any other person in this room, or I should hope. What do we have to apologize for?"

Some of the other group members nodded resolutely; Snape merely twitched his head in what resembled a nod and deepened his frown, glancing at their makeshift leader, Hermione, out of the corner of his eye.

Lightning flashed across the sky outside the office; they could see through the windows behind Minister Hall. A loud roar of thunder reverberated through the room for almost a full minute before dying away. Almost immediately after, another bolt danced through the dark clouds.

"But, we thought that, considering past actions concerning your organization-"

"Past actions?" Tonks huffed. "You couldn't possibly be speaking of the public slander or your infamous theories on our motives, now, could you?"

"Well, you see…" Hall seemed to lose steam, looking around at the group in front of him.

The queasy feeling he seemed to get in front of crowds came back, and the small part of him that remembered how he had obtained the title of Minister kicked himself for ever taking the post.

"The Order will be accepting no apologies, public or otherwise, from the Ministry officials in place at the time of said slander." Hermione said brusquely, reverting to her professional tone. "I'm sure without discussion that I speak on the behalf of the entirety of the group present. We may consider accepting future apologies from future officials, but, until then, there is nothing for you to say about it."

He seemed to deflate at these words and took to staring at his desk in an offhand way.

"Minister Hall, if that's all you wanted to see us for, then I believe it is time for us to leave." Hermione began to stand, but the Minister interrupted her.

"Actually, Miss Granger, on a less formal note, I wanted to talk to you about your daughter," Minister Hall said, forcing his tone to be light. "Now, for Sara's birthday-"

The witch in question froze, and a confused silence replaced the tense one in the room. Then, she continued in her movement, standing and straightening her robes. He seemed to realize at once that everyone in the room was sending him odd looks; or, in Hermione's case, a murderous, disbelieving glare.

"I do not believe the matter is of any importance in _this office_, Minister, no matter how close your niece is to Sara." She said icily, then strode from the room.

The remaining members of the Order stood and followed after her, some, eager to find out what the Minister had been talking about; others, eager to leave the building as soon as possible.

"Hermione!" Ginny hissed at her friend, catching her arm.

"There is nothing to be discussed, Ginevra." Hermione snapped, obviously more angry than she had been when they had entered the office.

"Nothing to be discussed!" Ginny cried out. "I've been your friend for years, Hermione! I may not see you often, but I Floo you at least twice a month and I see you every holiday. Did you not see it fit to inform me that you had a _child_ when you disappeared for all those years?"

Hermione ignored the redhead and continued on her way to the elevators, pressing the _door close _button as she went; Ginny forced herself in the closing gap and pressed it back open, sending her friend a glare.

A little hesitant, Ron stepped into the elevator, staring at his old friend with wide eyes. The rest of the nine followed, all staring at the woman. Hermione merely gazed stonily ahead at the elevator doors, and the metal started to grow hot, sizzling and glowing as her magic began to spin out of control. She blinked, and the accidental magic fizzled out.

"Mione?" Ron said softly.

"Yes, Ronald?" Hermione replied, gritting her teeth, without moving her gaze from the gleaming elevator doors.

"Um…" He faltered, not knowing what to say.

"If you have nothing to say, I would prefer we didn't waste our time with-" Another loud thunderclap interrupted her speaking, and she faltered, then continued, "with meaningless small talk."

"You having a child is meaningless small talk?" He said in disbelief. "Merlin, Mione, I've been your best friend for fifteen years."

"Fourteen." Hermione corrected. "And there is nothing to discuss."

With a loud whirring noise, the elevator slowed- Ginny started, it couldn't have possibly been 63 floors already- and came to a jarring halt. The lights flickered off, and Hermione groaned, closing her eyes.

Some things were just inescapable.

* * *

**Reviews, por favor. I have until chapter seven worked out, and I wanna keep my story on the updated page, but updates should be every weekend, just to give it time. Any questions about the fic, please ask, and especially constructive critism (no flames, please- that sounds so overused...). When I write, it's like I have the whole world worked out in my head, and I sometimes forget that not everyone knows every detail of the world I've created- so if something doesn't make sense, please, ask, and I'll fix it. **

**In some of the future chapters, I might be adding little codes. **

****

YAOROVSEUEETHNCS

**This one is not mine, it is taken from Daniel Brown's website (credit to him, and his page designers), but it is an example, and I want to see how many people will understand it. Hint: a square is two things- in a physical sense, and mathematical. **

**irish.**


	2. Pensive Past

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Pensive Past  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **3183  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?

**Please, reread chapter 1. I might have changed a few things (names, dates, etc) and want to keep everyone from being confused. Hopefully the new version of this fic will be much smoother reading than the old would have been. **

* * *

Later, Hermione would highly suspect some sort of divine interference- perhaps a last laugh from Dumbledore, who would want nothing more than the remaining nine defenders of the Light to be stuck on an elevator together for several hours. But, for the time being, she could do nothing but stare at the elevator wall, silently waiting for the lights to come back on. 

"Lumos," muttered McGonagall, and a soft light sparked from the tip of her wind. She glanced around. "Severus? Are you quite alright?"

"Yes," he mumbled in return, voice hoarse. "I'm fine."

Ron slid to a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and sighed, closing his eyes.

After a few minutes, a small paper airplane popped into existence next to McGonagall's head. It read:

_We're sorry for the inconvenience. The storm has shut off much of the building's power, and, as we do not have a back-up grenador, it could be between 45 minutes to 3 hours until power is restored. _

"Oh, lovely." Hermione cried. "The one time we go to the branch in a Muggle area, in a Muggle building, with Muggle electricity! And for God's sake, if they're going to build a building, buy a back-up generator, and make sure you know how to _spell _it!"

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger." McGonagall said tiredly.

"I can't go anywhere, with these anti-apparition wards! I have to go home!" Hermione cried, rounding on her former teacher.

"To your daughter?" Severus sneered, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione didn't answer at first, then said slowly, menacingly, "Don't you dare presume you know anything about my life, Snape."

McGonagall noted how his brow twitched towards a frown, but said nothing other than to remind Hermione to use his title. She merely laughed sardonically.

"Okay, then, _Professor Snape_." A strange glint came into her eyes as she snarled this.

"Mione, calm down." Ron said tiredly, trying to persuade her. "I think we're all just a bit in shock that you have a mystery daughter."

"Hermione, sit down." Ginny demanded, crossing her arms and coming to sit next to her brother.

Sighing, the curly-haired witch complied, but kept at least a few feet away from everyone else in the elevator. Then, as if just to prove that she couldn't escape the situation, Luna came and sat next to her, offering her emotional support. Neville sat close next to Luna, and Tonks decided to sit close, as well as Remus.

"Begin with the basics." Ginny said professionally. "How old is she?"

Hermione closed her eyes, knowing that this was the end of everything she had worked so hard to protect.

"I'd rather not talk about this," she whispered, and the others were surprised at how frail her voice sounded. "I'd really… _really _rather not talk about this."

"Gin, just leave her alone, she doesn't wanna-"

"Shut up, Ronald." Ginny said fiercely. "You know you're already low in my books; don't make the situation worse."

Ron bit his lip and returned to silence, playing with the hem of his sleeve.

"I agree with Mr. Weasley." Severus interjected. "Miss Granger's life is none of our business."

"_Your _business." Neville corrected, glaring at his formerly feared teacher. "You aren't her friend, you're just her old Potions teacher. Who, by the way, made her life miserable every day, for no reason but that she's muggle-born. Her having a daughter doesn't make a difference to you."

Hermione grimaced as Neville said this and waited for a response; she just wished this hadn't happened, and envisioned a few particularly slow and painful deaths for Minister Hall.

"On the contrary, Mr. Longbottom." Snape replied icily, and Hermione stared at him in shock, willing herself silently to melt through the floor. "I was especially harsh on Miss Granger because she needed the challenge."

No one seemed to catch Hermione's sigh at these words; or, if they had, they took no notice of it.

"Hermione, just start at the beginning," Ginny suggested calmly, "with when you disappeared."

The reluctant witch sighed.

"Very well. But don't expect it to be a short story." Hermione gazed warily around at the elevator's occupants, and they all stared back.

Ron, in particular, seemed interested in the story; _considering our relationship when I left_, Hermione mused to herself, _I don't suppose his wondering if he's the father is too far-fetched. _

"The reason for my departure in seventh year is… unimportant." Hermione said uneasily, and someone in the elevator, though she wasn't sure who, let out a snort. She continued as if not hearing this. "But I was not pregnant, nor on the run from Death Eaters. It just simply got to a point where I needed to get away."

"It was all those snorgbugs, wasn't it?" Luna said, as if this were a proven fact. "They drove me batty, as well."

Hermione stared at the girl for a few seconds before turning her face back to her lap and pretending she hadn't heard her.

"At first, I had nothing. As you all know, my parents had been killed in the beginning of the year…" She trailed off uncomfortably, then shook her head. "So I took what money I had been left by my parents, and moved back to the muggle world."

The burning gazes of the eight Order members boring into the crown of her head (as that was what was currently pointed towards them) did not go unnoticed, and she lifted her head to stare back at them.

"Yes," she said, a bittersweet note to her voice, "when I returned last year, I had brought back a daughter."

Ginny made an odd face and opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione cut her off.

"Her name is Sara Elizabeth Granger." She said quietly, and an odd feeling swept over her.

_What was that_?, she thought, annoyed. _Relief? Can't have been_. _I've worked too hard against this…_

But, she realized, it must be- she'd been hiding secrets for almost eight years. The biggest one was behind her now.

"She's three years old on July 22nd," she continued, "and God only knows how much she acts like her father."

"You know who the father is, then?" Ron asked in a strangled attempt to sound casual.

"Yes, Ronald, I _know _who the father is." Hermione snarled. "What do you take me for?"

"Well- I…" He sighed in defeat and remained silent.

"Hmmph." Hermione glared at her old friend before shaking her head. "But… I guess I'm getting ahead of myself…"

And, heaving a great sigh, she pushed her memories into the minds of the eight remaining members of the Light.

* * *

**She was 21; supposedly a happy age, one used to grasp at the last straws of immaturity and party away the year. **

**Hermione had, by that point, done her share of partying, and then had continued to pick up the shares of others who had gone home early or stayed in the house to watch their favorite shows on the telly. **

"**Hermione!" Her boss barked at her, angered. "That's the third time this week you've been late!" **

"**Sorry, Mr. Chandler, I haven't been sleeping well lately." Hermione replied, tossing her coat onto the coat rack and sitting down at her receptionist desk. **

"**If this goes on, I'm going to have to let you go." He said angrily, and closed his office door behind him. **

**Rolling her eyes, the overtired woman took out a bottle of water and a smaller, orange bottle; she took out one pill and swallowed it down with the water, then replaced the prescription bottle in her purse, leaving the water on her desk. **

"**Hey, Harmony." **

"**Hi, Marmalade." She glanced up at her friend, amused at their insistence on using badly chosen nicknames. But, upon looking up from her desk, the fluorescent lighting caught her in the eyes, and she grimaced, restraining from clutching at her throbbing skull. **

"**Hangover again, 'Mione?" Her friend frowned in sympathy. "You need to chill out." **

"**Butt out, Adelaide." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. My friends and I just like to go out a lot." **

"**You've come in with a hangover every day this _week_, Hermione." Adelaide rolled her eyes, leaning against the desk. "Keep it up and Chandler's gonna fire you." **

"**I said_ drop it_." **

**Adelaide's eyes widened at the infuriated look in Hermione's, then narrowed. Angry, she stalked back off to her desk. **

**Hermione shook her head, scowling at both her pulsating head and her friend's incessant prying, took her bag, and headed off to the bathrooms.

* * *

**

"**Mione?" Adelaide's voice was small as she timidly stepped into the bathroom. "You in here? Listen, I'm sorry I was being so-" **

**She stopped dead at the sight in front of her. **

"**Hermione…" She shook her head, cursing under her breath, as the drunk girl looked up at her. "Hermione, get up." **

**Hermione's face contorted in confusion as she wondered why she had to be this way, and, being drunk beyond control, began crying. **

"**Del'ade, I'unno, why'm I so…" Hermione struggled to find the right word in her haze, but waved the sentence away as if she had never said it. "You… y'won't… y'won' tell Chan'ler… will you?" **

"**Hermione, honey…" Adelaide shook her head, struggling to keep her composure. "I hate to see you like this." **

"**Adelai'!" Hermione slurred angrily. "Tell me you won' tell Chan'ler!" **

"**C'mon." Adelaide said, helping her to her feet. "Oh, Jesus…" **

**Angry, she threw the nearly drained Smirnoff bottle in the trash and hurriedly covered it with some paper towels. **

"**You need help, Hermione." **

"**S…screw you!" She yelled. "I… I don' need you. I…. I'm fine! I don' need any _help_." **

**Angry, a very drunk Hermione ran out into the office. **

"**I quit!" She screamed at her boss, who had frozen in surprise while coming out of his office door with a fax in hand. **

"**Hermione!" Adelaide yelled after her. "Why won't you just admit it!" **

"**I _don't need your help_!"

* * *

**

Hermione gave a stifled, dry sob as she extracted her mind from those of the others. Several of the others had strangely haunted looks on their faces, as if they could never imagine the Insufferable Know-It-All Granger being such an emotional wreck- a drunk, no less.

Someone in the elevator let out a slow breath, and Hermione bit her lip.

"It's no one's fault but my own." She said slowly. "Anyone in this elevator thinking they may have made me depressed at any point in my life should throw the thought from their head. I was depressed because I knew I couldn't stay where I was happiest."

"Why?" Ron asked miserably. "Why did you leave me?"

"There was more than just _you_, Ronald." Ginny snapped, frowning.

"This is Hermione's story. Let her talk. I'm rather enjoying the story." Luna said vaguely; her dreamy state had not been lost as the years had worn on.

Neville cleared his throat embarrassedly at his girlfriend's seemingly tactless enjoyment at Hermione's painful past, but Hermione merely gave a small smile.

"Thank you, Luna." She said quietly. "I don't think it's quite time for me to explain my departure yet. I think, maybe, we'll start with a bit after that…"

* * *

"**Okay, so, this is your desk, and that concludes our wonderful tour of the office." Mr. Chandler proclaimed sarcastically, then broke into a grin. "But, really, Miss Granger, I promise you'll fit right in here. You seem like a hard-working woman." **

**With that, Hermione, aged 19, had settled into a career. **

**It wasn't an extremely high-paying job, or an entertaining one, being a receptionist. But, she reasoned, it gave her enough money to live, and when things were slow, she was free to use the Internet as she pleased. Usually, she took this time to order books online or such things. She especially liked to order books about witches and wizards, and then discount everything the characters did with the true logic of magic. **

**As she ordered a book about the rivalry between witches and vampires, thinking of what her old friends might have said at this unusual work activity, her heart panged, and she bit her lip, staring down at her desk. _No_. _I won't think about it_. **

**She kept thinking about it all day, and continued on into the night, taking her musings to the bar. There, she ran into a new co-worker, Adelaide, who introduced herself. **

"**Harmony, did you say it was?" The polite woman asked. **

"**Hermione." She corrected, finishing her second drink. "But I suppose that would make you Marmalade?" **

"**I suppose that's only fair." Adelaide raised an eyebrow, laughing, and ordered another round.

* * *

**

"So, that was it?" Ron asked incredulously, all past forgotten. "You just moved back and suddenly you're a muggle again?"

"No, Ronald." Hermione gritted, retracting her mind and memories from those of the others. "I still used my magic. I just lived in the muggle _world_."

"I still would like to know why you left." He answered, not backing down.

Sighing, Hermione shook her head, and her gaze flitted around the cramped space before coming back to her old boyfriend.

"I don't want to discuss my reasons for leaving just yet, Ron." She said in a small, tightly restrained voice. "I already made that clear."

"Well, we're not going to under-"

"Let the woman be, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall reprimanded him, scowling. "Can you not see that even sharing the smallest memories with us is taxing enough as it is?"

Embarrassed, Ron sank into himself, and Hermione sighed, her mind jumping between which memories she should choose to share next. Reluctantly agreeing with Ron, she knew they would never understand until she showed them the beginning.

Clenching her fists in her lap, she brought another memory to the front of her mind and, with a bit of reluctance, pushed it into the minds of the eight others…

* * *

**A much younger Hermione rushed into the Great Hall, late. **

"**Hey, 'Mione." Ron looked up from his food briefly, smiling. **

"**Hey," she sat down next to him, smiling tiredly and forcedly at her friend, formerly boyfriend. "Where's Harry?" **

"**Oh, off somewhere." Ron replied vaguely around his pancakes, and Hermione nodded; it was unwritten code for Harry's missions to find Voldemort's Horcruxes. "Speaking of missing people, where were _you_ last night?"**

"**Detention with Snape." Hermione replied brusquely, pulling some toast, bacon, and eggs onto her plate. **

"**Again?" Ron replied incredulously. "That's the fifth time in the past two weeks. Swear to Merlin, that guy has it in for you." **

"**That must be it." She replied, shrugging, then cast a distasteful look at her plate. "I'm not that hungry, after all." **

"**Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron said cautiously. "In your case, I wouldn't be. I mean, that much time, forced to spend with that greasy git, I'd go mad." **

"**Hmm, that must be it, as well." A small smile tinged her lips, and she began to stand. "Thanks, Ron, you've made me feel loads better."

* * *

**

"We already know how that happened." Ron said crossly. "Get to when you left."

"You'd go mad with me, the greasy git, would you, Mr. Weasley?" Snape said sarcastically. "Please be reassured that I would never choose you for my company, and hope that I may never have to grace your presence again after this."

"Oh, stop it." Hermione gritted. "You know why he felt the way he did."

The professor remained silent, but then smirked.

"And I'm sure it must have been all those detentions that made you just so edgy." He replied smoothly. "Spending all that time copying and grading essays, forced to spend time with me, the great git of the dungeons, eh?"

Hermione glared at him, then shook her head.

"You just don't have enough empathy in you to understand, do you?" She finally muttered. "Forget it. Next memory."

"Wait!" Ron cried. "You can't just move on. That was the day you left… the letter you got… and-"

"I said, _next_ _memory_." Hermione said firmly.

"Hermione, it _is _important that we fully understand the reason for your leaving." Luna said wisely. "And I'm sure Ronald will be quite angry until you tell him, most likely not paying any attention to your story."

Hermione bit her lip, looking at the woman next to her, and sighed; though vague and odd, Luna was usually right.

"Alright." Hermione sighed. "Ron, do you remember when… when we broke up?"

"Yeah." He replied uneasily, avoiding her eye, and his ears grew pink. "Y'know, I still-"

"Ron, it's been seven years. Can you please grow up and get over it?" Ginny snapped at her brother. "Hermione, proceed."

"I didn't tell many people my real reasons." Hermione said quietly. "In fact, only one person alive knows why."

Ron's brow furrowed as he struggled to comprehend that _We're just too different and I preferred being friends _was not the true reason for her dumping him all those years ago.

A slight cough echoed throughout the dark elevator, and Minerva suddenly realized the absurdity of their sitting in the dark. She quickly conjured a small lamp, such as one might use camping, and set it down in the middle of the tin box. She then extinguished her wand and settled comfortably against the wall, her once imposing posture having deteriorated with age.

"Actually, Professor, I would prefer it were dark." Hermione said uncomfortably. "It's easier if I don't have to see you…"

A little surprised, the elderly woman sent the lamp away, and the elevator was once again thrown into darkness.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered, and she felt Luna squeeze her arm in support. Though she knew the woman couldn't see it, she nodded thankfully in her direction, before pulling away, curling into a ball in the corner of the small compartment.

She cleared her throat, and opened her mouth as if to speak, but then abruptly closed it. The darkness in the elevator was complete, and she felt comfortable knowing she wouldn't have to see her old friends' faces as they learned all the secrets she'd been hiding. A heavy hand snaked its way through the group and lightly squeezed her left knee before returning to its owner; she was unsure of who it was, but presumed it was probably Ron.

"Where is everyone?" She whispered softly.

"Right here," Ginny's voice came from her immediate right.

It seemed that the group had assembled in a bit of a semi-circle around her; from the right, it started Ginny, then Ron, followed by Minerva. Behind Minerva, against the far wall, sat Snape. Next to Minerva was Tonks, who was splayed out against Remus. Neville sat next to him, and, at Hermione's left, Luna offered her support.

"Um…" She let out a wavery breath, and someone else in the room sighed heavily, as if hearing this would break their heart, as they knew it would. Minerva send an annoyed glance at Ron, but, his sight adjusting to the dark once more, he merely shrugged in response. "Well, I guess… it all starts with a trip to Hogsmeade."

She sucked in one last shuddering breath before pushing the memory to the minds of the eight.

* * *

**There you are! Please review with any suggestions, questions, etc. If I get no reviews, next chapter will be up between one and two weeks. One or two reviews, it will be up Monday or Tuesday. Three or four I'll do it Saturday. Five or six I'll do it friday... and so on... **


	3. Beginning

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Beginning  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count:** 2830  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?

* * *

**Well, here we are, chapter 3! I'm updating a few days early, because I saw that the lovely pstibbons had added me to their C2, Anyone But Ron, and I was so excited, I just had to update! Thank you! Yes, I'm advertising pstibbons and his (if he is a him- pstibbons, your bio says you're an arsehole, that implies a himship, right?) C2. I promise all you ad-haters will get over it, because, look, the chapter!**

**

* * *

****"Hermione, where are you going?" Ron said irritably, chasing after his girlfriend.**

"**Bookstore!" She called back excitedly , scarf whipping around and nearly hitting her in the eye. **

"**Really, Ron, anyone could've guessed that." Harry said dryly, calmly walking a few paces behind, tightly clenching Ginny's hand. **

**He muttered something to his best friend as they stepped out of the cold, winter air and into the warmth of the bookstore. **

**It was November 16th, 1997; the last November 16th the group would ever spend at Hogwarts. Hermione often thanked Merlin that Harry had gone back to Ginny; if he hadn't, she knew he wouldn't be able to deal with the death of Dumbledore. Even still, he was often moody and depressed, as he had been before, and she often wondered if he-

* * *

**

Hermione stopped suddenly, feeling as if something bitter had crawled down her throat and died in her stomach. The horrible thoughts she had entertained at that age now seemed ridiculous and traitorous.

"What just happened?" Ron frowned, wrinkling his nose. "Why'd you stop?"

"What?" Hermione said embarrassedly. "Oh. Sorry. Erm, I suppose my concentration was elsewhere…"

"Get on with it, Miss Granger," Severus said irritably. "Though we may already know this story, it is something other than your bickering to occupy my time."

Hermione glared at him for a few moments, then shook her head. In truth, she'd only wanted to keep the rest from knowing how she had worried about Harry turning from the Light, himself; she felt it was some sort of deep betrayal to the memory of the man who had died to save the Wizarding World. Dismissing these thoughts with an uncomfortable twinge, she continued on.

* * *

**The four sat down in armchairs in the corner of the store, each with their own purchases; for Harry, a book on complex Defense spells; for Ginny, a thick tome on Occlumency; for Hermione, a stack of similar books as well as a few books on Healing; for Ron, a book on Quidditch history. **

**Of course, Ron wasn't exactly the clueless idiot he seemed; he was using a thick book on Defense as a sort of lap-table for his Quidditch book. **

**Hermione, unable to truly concentrate on the book she was holding, thought instead of _why_ she was holding these books. Sighing to herself, she imagined the upcoming days when she would _need _these healing spells, and quickly gave another small prayer for her friend. The girl had never been one for praying, but found that any little help would be welcomed at this point.

* * *

**

"Hermione…"Ginny said tentatively. "Not to be rude, but what does this have to do with anything? I mean… we read for a while… we left. Harry got into a fight with some Slytherins, but you were in the ladies' when that happened, so that can't be it."

Hermione remained silent for a minute before shaking her head, and another sarcastic cough resounded in the elevator.

"I was trying to make sure you knew when this happened." She responded quietly, her voice heavy. "But the point was, I never went to the ladies'."

Ginny fell silent again, and Hermione continued.

* * *

"**I'll be right back." Hermione sighed finally, not being able to take the oppressive weight of her thoughts anymore. "I have to find the bathroom."**

**Ron looked up, smiling lightly, then he returned to his book, his eyes following the moving picture that demonstrated a Quidditch move. Ginny didn't look up, but nodded slightly to acknowledge that she had heard. Harry was nearly dozing; he hadn't been sleeping well lately. **

**In all truth, Hermione had every intention of going to the ladies'. Maybe she only wanted to sit in the silence for a few minutes and recollect herself, as opposed to actually going to the bathroom, but that was beside the point. She kept her head down as she walked towards the bathrooms, and didn't notice until she had nearly fallen over that she had bumped into someone. **

"**Oh, sor-" She stopped as her Potions professor sneered down at her, straightening his robes. "Professor." **

"**Miss Granger." He sneered. "Do watch where you're going." **

**Though she set her face in a decidedly sweet smile, her eyes were cold. **

"**I'm ever so sorry, Professor." She said icily. "But I do believe you were the one with their eyes up, and you might have easily prevented bumping into me." **

**He muttered something under his breath, shook his head, and walked away. **

"**Don't believe I caught that, sir." She called after him cheekily, trying to suppress a smirk; she was upset and this seemed to be the only way to relieve her stress at the moment, no matter how unlike Hermione it was to talk back to a professor. **

"**No, I don't believe you did." He drawled, not bothering to look back as he stormed out of the store and back into the biting November air.

* * *

**

"I believe what I said was, 'Insufferably over-clever little chit'." Severus said, interrupting the memory.

"I had guessed it was something like that." Hermione said dryly.

The rest of the elevator just seemed annoyed that the memory had stopped again.

"Fine." Hermione huffed, looking at all of them. She seemed to have composed herself and was less hesitant about showing these memories to her friends.

* * *

**Shaking her head in equal parts of amusement and anger at her Professor, Hermione continued through the back of the store, wishing it weren't so crowded. Someone stepped on her foot heavily, and she hissed in pain, whipping around to see who it had been, but saw no one. Confused, she furrowed her brow and kept moving.**

"**Hermione." She heard someone hiss. "_Hermione_!" **

"**What?" She glanced up again, but still saw no one. She turned her face back to her feet. **

**Then, quite suddenly, she saw her feet disappear; the invisibility swept up her body and over her head, and, finally, with her eyes under the cloak, she could see the person talking to her. **

"**Remus?" She said incredulously, and he clapped a hand over her mouth. **

**Still under the invisibility cloak, her old professor dragged her through the back door and to the Shrieking Shack, where he finally deemed it safe to pull off the cloak. **

"**Hermione." He finally sighed, sitting down on a rock. **

"**Remus?" She repeated in an even more unbelieving tone. "What are you doing here? You've been gone for- you're supposed to be- it… it's the sixteenth! It's the full moon tonight, and it's almost dark out, what are you-"**

"**They're after me." He replied raggedly. "The Ministry. They're tagging werewolves and I've gone into hiding." **

"**I don't bloody see how a werewolf being out on the full moon will help you hide from the bloody Ministry!" She screeched. "And, not that I don't want to help you, but why exactly did you pull me out here?!" **

"**I need someone's help." He said. "You were the first one I saw."**

**She calmed slightly at this, feeling bad that her older friend was in such a bad situation. **

"**Okay, Remus." She finally responded. "But the moon is going to rise soon. You need to get somewhere safe." _Not to mention me_, she thought in exasperation. **

"**I've had my potion." He said sullenly, looking up at the girl from his seat on the rock, while she paced. "I just need somewhere to stay where they won't find me, and the Shrieking Shack isn't safe anymore. The Ministry had a ridiculous amount of places charmed to tell when a transformed werewolf is in the area, and if I trip one, I'll be caught and they'll bring me in." **

**Hermione stopped pacing, sending a concerned, sympathetic look at her friend. Ever since the Ministry had gone under such drastic changes… She shook her head and sat down next to him. **

"**Problem is, there's nowhere safe." He said bitterly. **

"**Why don't you just apparate somewhere?" Hermione shook her head confusedly. **

**Sighing, Remus informed her that, as of a few days prior, the Ministry had revoked the apparition licenses of such 'dangerous half-breeds' as himself, as well as set him under some kind of spell to keep him from accessing the energy he needed to attempt it.**

"**Even if I could, I'd have nowhere to go." He said irritably. "You have to know where you're going to go there, and I've never been anywhere outside the boundaries of the wards they've set." **

"**What about me?" Hermione said calmly. "I visited my aunt in America over the summer, I can bring you there. Surely the Ministry has no jurisdiction across the Atlantic?"**

**He looked up at her hopefully, then the look flickered out of his eyes. **

"**No. You can't Apparate; you're only sixteen, and they'd peg you for it." **

"**Oh, Remus, don't be so unbelievably pessimistic. _Or_ so unbelievably absent-minded." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm in seventh year, and my birthday's in September. I'm _eighteen_. Come on." **

**With that, she heaved him off his seat on the cold stone and took his arm. Almost hesitantly, the man stared at her with a half-opened mouth, ready to protest, but within seconds, Hermione had turned on the spot and the two of them had disappeared.

* * *

**

"_That's _where you bloody went, Remus?" Ron said in disbelief. "For all that time, you were in bloody _America_?"

"Um. Yes." Hermione answered for him. "Now do shut up."

"One of our good friends goes sporadically missing for months at a time, as well as another disappearing off the map for years, and all you can say is _do shut up_?" He said angrily, fighting the urge to punch the wall next to him. "Merlin, Hermione! You were gone for more than four years! You've been hiding a _daughter_ from us! This is not a _do shut up_ matter!"

Hermione remained silent, knowing this to be somewhat true, and waited for him to calm himself. Finally, he sat back, somewhat frowning at her, and she cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away from the redhead.

"Even though I know this might make you sort of angry at me…" Remus coughed slightly into his hand, and Tonks sat up, frowning slightly. "I knew where Hermione was."

"You _what_?" Ginny screeched, and Hermione put a shaking hand to her forehead, sighing. "_You what_?"

"I knew!" Remus responded, more confident this time.

"You knew." Neville repeated bluntly. "All these years, you'd known where she was? She didn't even send us a single owl, and yet you _knew_ _exactly where she was living_?"

"I didn't know about her daughter." He said hastily, hoping to keep them from getting too angry.

Hermione avoided the eyes of her friends, seeing that they were angry, and feeling slightly ashamed with herself.

"He _visited you_?!" Ron jumped to his feet. "_Him_? He was only a friend of yours; I was your boyfriend!"

"Ex-boyfriend!" The harassed girl replied testily, head snapping back up. "I broke up with you _two_ _months _before I left. And Remus didn't know where I was for a _year _after I'd gone!"

Remus frowned suddenly, casting his eyes to the floor in thought, and his head nodded slowly in a monotonous beat. Hermione noticed this and frowned as well.

"Still, he saw you, we didn't even hear from you!" Ron said hotly, his ears growing red with anger. "And as for-"

"Mr. Weasley, sit _down_!" McGonnagall snapped. "Do you not think this is stressful enough on Miss Granger as it is?"

Ron glared at his former Professor and sat down.

"As it is, I see no problem in Hermione having someone to confide in every once in awhile, as she was surrounded by muggles." She finished with a decisive tone in her voice.

Hermione nodded her head gratefully, and the elderly woman gave a small smile.

"I'm one of your closest friends, and you couldn't tell me that you knew where one of our _other_ best friends had gone missing?" Tonks said, drawing herself into a ball, her hair turning an offended shade of indigo. Hermione frowned slightly at this statement (wasn't Tonks Remus' girlfriend?) but twitched the thought away and brought herself back to reality.

He muttered something to himself, and Tonks immediately demanded he repeat himself.

"He said, I went under the Fidelius Charm!" Hermione gritted, baring her teeth. "I didn't _want _him to tell anyone where I was!"

A shocked silence spread through the elevator, save for the angry sound of Hermione's ragged breath, and a long, steady sigh from Remus.

"As it happens, there were a few witches I knew where I was." Hermione huffed. "I didn't trust him not to tell anyone where I was, so I convinced an old witch I knew to become my Secret Keeper. Remus wasn't informed. When he came back to visit for the second time, he told me of how he had tried to tell you guys of where I was and failed miserably, falling unconscious as he tried to struggle the words out."

She quirked an eyebrow as she dryly recounted this, and Ginny's lip twitched in amusement at the memory, now knowing why her former professor had passed out while seemingly trying to ask them if they had heard from their mysterious friend.

"It's not important, anyway." Hermione concluded.

"How many times did he visit you, then?" Ron frowned again.

"Merlin, Ron. I don't know. He found me about a year after I'd left and generally visited me every once in awhile when he apparated all over the place to escape the Ministry."

"You were in America, then?" Luna concluded, eyes bright.

"I didn't say that." Hermione found it hard to be angry at the odd woman, and smiled tiredly at her. "And yet, you're right. I was in America."

"That explains the accent," muttered Neville.

"Maybe you weren't able to tell me, exactly." Tonks conceded to Remus. "But, for Merlin's sake, every time me and Benny came over, no matter how many times we brought up the fact that I missed her _so _much and we were both _so terribly _worried about her, you couldn't make any sort of allusion to the fact you knew she was safe and sound in America?"

"Who's Benny?" Hermione muttered, then shook her head. "Point is, lay off Remus, because he couldn't tell you, anyway."

"_Who's Benny_?" Tonks replied incredulously. "You've met him before."

"I don't think I have." Hermione replied politely, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, you did. Back in my third year, when-" She cut herself off here, suddenly embarrassed, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"That Benny?" She said quietly, quickly forcing her expression to be impassive.

"In your third year?" Remus said suspiciously. "Implying that, somehow, you knew Hermione in your third year?"

"Well, you see, it's all a very interesting story, but I'm rather tired now-" Hermione said happily, going to lean against the wall.

"You _what_?!" Ron exploded.

Even Minerva gave a shocked outcry at this, and Hermione cast a quick Silencing charm on all of them before continuing.

"Okay, fine." She said evenly. "Another secret. Add it to the list. Tonks, really, how in the world did you make it to being an Auror, you can't keep a secret for an hour."

She lifted the charm on the elevator, but it remained in shocked silence.

"Well, erm, I suppose it was because I was so good at the disguise bit…" She muttered. "But really, that was a mistake. Sorry, 'Mione."

Hermione sighed at the glares certain members of the elevator were giving her and looked back to her lap.

"Okay, okay." She muttered. "I spent my seventh year in 1977 before returning to 19_**9**_7and completing… well, _nearly_ completing my education there. Happy?"

"No!" Ginny looked at her in disbelief. "Merlin, Hermione! How many secrets do you have!"

"More than you think." She muttered darkly.

There was an uncomfortable, disbelieving silence in the room, and Hermione sighed again.

"Yes. In 7th year, in order to do some research on Voldemort, I sent myself back, twenty years into the past." She sighed irritably.

Severus couldn't hide his mocking snort, but then the look on his face turned to one of horror.

"Danielle!" Severus and Remus shouted simultaneously; Tonks winced, obviously feeling guilty at her slip-up, and leaned against the wall.

"Caught me." Hermione observed the faded brownish carpeting on the elevator floor, quirking an eyebrow in abject despair. "Nearly three decades later, but, you've caught me. When I was in 1977, I went by the name of Danielle Parker."

Remus' eyes widened considerably as he remembered a few bits of his past, and Hermione shot him a glare before he could bring up more secrets.

"As to what you're thinking, Remus, yes. That's why." She said shortly.

"Why what?"

"Why nothing." She told Neville. "It's another story."

Ron stared at her in disbelief.

"Hermione… just how many lives have you led?"

She stared at him for awhile before closing her eyes.

"I suppose I lost count after awhile."

* * *

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Irish


	4. Hidden Reminders

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Hidden Reminders  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count:** 4139  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer: **JK's. Not mine. I forgot to do this earlier- sorry.

* * *

Thanks to my reviewers, **wasu**, **looly**, **MintaM**, **ctc, **and (the not lovely- adorable, cute, or ronphobic) **pstibbons**. Probably would've given up if I didn't have reviewers like you. (Wow. Just reminded myself of PBS- this show made possible by contributions from viewers like you... Um, I'm gonna go now.) Okay just read the chapter.

* * *

In the case of the woman's former Potions professor, however, the only response was a bitter laugh.

"How could I not have seen it, then?" He chuckled to himself darkly. "What a bloody ponce I am! Honestly. Sure, you'd cut your hair, and perhaps put a few cosmetic charms on yourself, but _really_."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Really, Severus. I was quite friendly with you when I was Danielle," she replied dryly. "Surely nothing I said in seventh year tipped you off to the fact that we had been childhood friends?"

"You tried to tip me off?" He said, aghast.

"Yes and no." The witch rolled her eyes. "It was more amusing to watch you struggle to understand why I was casually mentioning the disastrous results of making a certain Polyjuice Potion with a childhood friend. So, really, I dropped hints _hoping_ you'd pick them up, but more for the amusement of watching you miss them completely."

Remus smiled, his unnaturally sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Why are you three laughing it up like old buddies when we'd missed an entire year of your life?" Ron demanded to know.

"I second that," Ginny added, glaring, then amended, "Not that I back down on any former vows to forever disagree with one Ronald Bilius Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, for your question, Ron, I suppose it's because we _are_ old buddies." Hermione smirked. "But, then, I don't suppose they would like to still be friends with me after I tricked them so…" She sent them a pouting look.

Remus rolled his eyes, as did Severus, and Hermione grinned cheekily.

"You see? Old buddies," she declared.

"Oh, my God." Severus groaned, putting his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling with a despairing look. "I have, in some form or shape, befriended one of Potter's followers."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, then shook her head.

"It's okay. Just repress the memory. That seems to work for everything else for you."

"Excuse me!" He hissed, eyes snapping back to the aggravated-looking woman.

"Don't bother," She dismissed his comment, continuing on. "Now, which memory to go into now…"

"I rather think they'd like to see you as Danielle." Remus smirked, for reasons understood only to those who had met the disguised witch in the past.

"Oh, first you're all angry I didn't tell you it was me, and now this…" Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think we'll save that for another time. We need to continue on with our current story."

"I _would _like to see it, actually, though I don't understand why Remus thinks it's so funny," Ginny tilted her head at the lycanthrope, still smirking to himself.

"I assure you, it was quite comical, Miss Weasley," Severus said dryly.

McGonagall just stared at Hermione with a disbelieving look on her face. She finally noticed this.

"What?"

"You went back _twenty years _in time and _never told anyone_?" The disbelieving professor fumed. "You didn't even-" A strangled cry of fury was let out from the woman as her nostrils flared, mouth forming a thin line.

"I told… Dumbledore's portrait…" Hermione mumbled. "He said it was a wonderful idea."

"Oh, just lovely," Minerva sighed. "The original throws the Time Turner at you, then the portrait tells you exactly what to do with it."

"If you discount the fact that I was breaking numerous laws, it was a rather good idea," Hermione said defensively. "I managed to help Harry find the remaining Horcruxes, didn't I?"

At this, Minerva settled back into herself, cat claws sliding back into place- quite literally, as, in her anger, she was beginning to transform into her animagi form of a cat. She grew back into the shape more formally known as Headmistress McGonagall and primly adjusted her robes around herself.

"Well, I suppose that Albus, even in his portraits, had his reasoning." She sniffed, clearly offended.

"He did," Hermione snapped. "Now, would you all please stop doubting me. Everything I've done in the past was to help Harry."

"Except for the bit when you, erm, let's see, _ran away_," Ron muttered.

"He didn't need my help anymore." Hermione glared at the redhead. "He already knew all the Horcruxes, and there was nothing else I could do for him. If I had done my job sooner, I would've _left_ sooner."

"No, you wouldn't have, Miss Granger." Severus rolled his eyes. "You would've stayed on 'til the end, trying to soak up all the knowledge you could."

Hermione glanced at him half-heartedly before looking away pointedly, pouting.

"It's true," Neville admitted with a small smile, seeming a little tentative to agree with his former greatest fear.

Hermione rolled her eyes, her anger abating.

"Alright." She sighed. "What memory do you want to see next? My moving to America, something with Sara, et cetera…"

"I vote your reason for leaving, Sara's father, and then you in the past," Ron said decisively.

"Me in the past it is," Hermione replied breezily, ignoring the first two suggestions.

"No, I-"

"Look, Ron, my story will be told however I want it to be. And, now that I think of it, it probably makes more sense this way."

He fell silent at that, and Hermione glared at him before settling back, closing her eyes and preparing to delve back into her memory.

* * *

"**Miss Granger, are you quite sure about this?"**

"**Yes, sir, I'm sure," Hermione answered. **

**To the common, muggle eye, it would seem as if she were talking to no one; she was alone in Dumbledore's office, as McGonagall had not taken the room after his death, preferring to keep her own office. But, no; Hermione was talking to the portrait of one Albus Dumbledore. In fact, she was one of the few he _would_ talk to, and by far the one he most confided his infinite knowledge in, trusting her above all else. **

**A quiet sigh escaped the old man's flat face, and his gaze dropped to the floor. Hermione had often wondered, in the beginning, about the portraits, whether they held the essence of their subject or were just objects. But the more this particular portrait told her, the more she became convinced it was the former. **

"**Good luck, Miss Granger." **

"**Thank you, Professor." The ghost of a smile flitted across the girl's lips before she swung the sword up and pulled it across her throat. **

**As if this were only to be anti-climactic, the lump of brown, bushy hair fell to the ground without grace, and Hermione straightened back up, looking at her handiwork in the mirror she had conjured. **

**Short, yes, and choppy- not exactly the best job. Sighing, she used a pair of scissors to trim off the offending bits of frizz left and ran her hands haphazardly through her hair, now just barely skimming her shoulders. **

**She now pulled her wand on herself and muttered a few cosmetic charms. **

**She sighed wistfully at the reflection in the mirror, knowing it wasn't perfect; she still looked quite like herself, when she had tried so hard to make herself seem so different. No matter; she placed a few more charms on herself, and, when she felt she had done enough, pulled out the Time Turner, which had been modified extensively under the watchful eye of Dumbledore's portrait to accommodate Hermione's impending move through time. **

"**Now, Miss Granger, explain to me again why it is you are disguising yourself so heavily?" Albus' portrait asked, the twinkle in his eye caught in the oil on canvas. **

**The girl glanced up at the man rested comfortably within his frame and smiled a bit, beginning to turn the Time Turner back rapidly, sand a confused mess inside as the center of gravity was continually thrown off.**

"**I don't want to change anyone's opinion of me _now_. I would prefer no one knew I was doing this, especially someone who might call the Ministry as soon as I step back into my own time."**

"**I won't pretend to understand how you think you're going to help Harry by meeting his parents, but I don't suppose this could hurt anything," Dumbledore imparted. "I would tell you I hope that you can change the world for the better, but time is a continuous flow. This has already happened, and we both know that any changes we dream of now shall not be so. So my parting words to you will be of luck and for your well-being on this journey."**

**He nodded thoughtfully, considering his own words, and Hermione finally stopped turning the hourglass, the reflection of it glinting in the fading sunlight and illuminating a dark corner of the ceiling. The sand inside calmed, spilling to one side, and Hermione took a deep breath. **

"**Thank you, Professor," she murmured, and, gathering up her most precious possession- rather, her cat, Crookshanks- disappeared.

* * *

**

"**Well, Miss Parker, welcome to Hogwarts," Minerva McGonagall said briskly. "The Great Hall is just this way. When we arrive, you will be sorted into your house, and will sit at the corresponding table with your new Housemates. The other students will show you back to your common room and dormitory."**

"**Thank you, Professor," Hermione answered. **

**Feeling very out of place in front of her school, Danielle took a seat on the three-legged stool, placing the Sorting Hat on her head. She remembered the stool being a lot higher off the ground, and felt rather self-conscious about how she sat on the low stool in front of a sea of unfamiliar faces. **

"**Ah, what's this?" The Sorting Hat whispered in her ear. "Why, you've already been sorted. Odd predicament, this. I remember everyone I've sorted, yet you seem to remember being sorted yourself, _Miss Parker_. Lovely pseudonym, on the side, as I'd once sorted a Miss Parker myself, Tricia, I believe the name was, a Ravenclaw, and-"  
**

_**Really, I know this is stressful, not remembering me, as I haven't been sorted yet in this time, but could you please hurry up the process? **_**Hermione struggled to keep even her thoughts calm; the extreme tension she felt at staring around the Great Hall was mounting, and she was on edge. Dumbledore was giving her odd looks. Did he know? **

"**Oh, yes, of course," The Hat replied in her ear. "Now… Miss Granger, is it? Gryffindor? Strange, you seem to strike me as an ambitious one, very willing to prove yourself, that's the Slytherin in you. It does baffle me why you're pretending to be a Miss Parker when you're clearly a Miss Granger, though, dear." **

**Hermione wondered to herself how the Hat had changed in the years between this sorting and her original one, and why this particular Hat seemed so chatty.

* * *

"Is _that _what the blasted thing was going on about for all those hours?" Remus said in exasperation. "Merlin, I had thought the Hat might have been saying something of substance, you were sitting there for days."**

"Yes, Ben and I were famished, I remember," Tonks said brightly, tapping her chin thoughtfully, hair changing to a peaceful lavender shade. "And we kept complaining that the new girl was taking up all our time."

Hermione smiled. Ginny seemed rather amused by how uncomfortable Hermione felt under the guise of Danielle, but said nothing. Severus, however, looked thoughtful.

"I'm still not quite sure I can adapt to the fact that my Potions partner for the year was, in fact, from the future. Especially you." He paused. "Though it does explain a lot of the things you've said…"

"Irony's a bitch, innit?"

He cast her an exasperated glare; she ignored this. Taking off her robe, she balled the material up and lay back, using it as a pillow. She pushed the sleeves of her normal muggle shirt up, scratching absent-mindedly at a scar on her left arm.

"Get back to that year," Tonks said happily. "It was funny."

"You weren't in the dormitories with us, once Lily gave her Gryffindor's password, and the Head Dormitory password, as well," Remus said darkly to the woman, then casting Hermione an odd, horrified glance. "Merlin, you were in the dormitories, I-"

"Don't even think about it." Hermione waved a hand. "I was in the boys' dormitories every day to wake up Harry and Ron and make them get dressed and such."

"It's true," Ron muttered. "Seamus had to charm the door to keep her out. She kept coming in and picking out our clothes for us."

An odd look came over Remus' face, and then he slowly nodded, the nods quickly becoming shorter and more rapid.

"That sounds like Danielle to me." He sighed, running a hand through his brown hair, all traces of the once stubborn gray removed.

Hermione noticed this, remembering how it had been especially present around his temples, and smiled as she thought of _why_.

"I still can't think of why you wanted to take those aging potions, Remus." Hermione shook her head, staring up at her dim reflection on the mirrored ceiling in the semi-darkness.

"I told you that," He said, sounding happily aggravated. "If I hadn't, people would have noticed that I stayed younger longer than them. They would have noticed I was 15 while they were 21."

"But now, you're 30, while the rest are nearly 50," She said, smiling.

"I'd be 10 if I didn't stop myself," he muttered darkly.

Her grin grew wider, then faded. She continued scratching at the ropy, white scar on the inner side of her left forearm, near her elbow, and her frown grew more pronounced. A few people in the cramped space glanced at her arm concernedly, only now noticing the scar, but a harsh glare from the witch prevented them from asking.

"It's another story, and we've deviated from the point enough already," Hermione said sharply. "You're just lucky that I'm telling you about my year as Dani Parker; it _is_ somewhat relevant."

Sighing, she closed her eyes and tried best she could to concentrate on the next memory; her being Sorted and such. But, as she fell into the light trance that allowed the others into her mind, her subconscious decided to forego her ideas.

* * *

"**W-who's there?" The girl stuttered in the darkness, looking around, peering through the forest. "Guys, seriously, come out…"**

**A low growl emanated from the forest around Hermione, and she shivered in her cloak, glad to be wearing her own muggle jeans, but feeling terror sinking through her body like the icy cold nonetheless. **

"**Whose smart idea was it to come into the Forbidden Forest tonight?" She shouted to the trees, her voice echoing. As she craned her neck skyward, she caught sight of the one thing she dreaded most. **

**It was the full moon. **

"**Oh, shit," She moaned. "Oh, God, Merlin, shit, oh, bugger, shit, oh, _shit_." **

**Frantic, she wondered if this part of the Forest was far enough from Hogwarts to be able to Apparate. She tried, and found that her spinning only sent her tumbling to the ground in panic. Fumbling, she got back to her feet, shaking, and tried to remember which way was back to Hogwarts. **

**Another growl sounded, closer than before, and she sprinted. This enticed an angry snarl from the beast, and she heard the foliage being ripped apart behind her. A sob escaped her as she ran, and she stumbled on uneven ground. The pounding sound of heavy footfall behind her spurred her to her feet, and she continued. **

**It was too late. Shaking, she sent a glance over her shoulder. Through her bouncing, unfocused sight, she could make out the image of a werewolf, it's reddish-brown fur slick with sweat and blood. It lunged for her, trapping her to the ground, and-

* * *

**

"_No!_" Hermione screamed, sitting bolt upright. "No, no, no, no, no!"

She was shivering uncontrollably, and began scratching at the scar again. Looking haunted, Remus automatically shuffled over to her, hugging her closely, and she let out a dry, terrified sob, white-knuckled hands grasping tightly at his robes. He rubbed her back soothingly, eyes wide and unseeing as he remembered that night in flashes, recalled the blind feeling of tearing through the bushes after unseen prey; an involuntary shudder ripped through him as he related Hermione with the word _prey_.

"Merlin, Hermione," Ron said in a hushed voice. "You…"

Curling into a ball, Hermione pulled away from Remus and to the corner of the elevator.

"You're a werewolf?" Ginny said quietly.

"No," Hermione snapped. "No, I'm not."

"But, you just-"

"I'm not a werewolf."

"She's an animagus," Remus said suddenly, eyes growing wide. "Dani became an animagus, too, with Lily and the Marauders. You're an animagus, aren't you?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"_What_?" Ron yelled. "You're a _what_?"

"Miss Granger, I would least expect this from _you_ of all people," Minerva said severely, frowning.

"That makes bloody sense," Severus growled, rolling his eyes.

"What are you?" Tonks asked excitedly.

"I think it was sort of obvious, you know…" Luna said vaguely.

"But she's a bloody animagus and she didn't _tell _us?" Ron cried in indignation. "She-"

"Shut up!" Hermione yelled. "Jesus- or, oh, bloody Merlin, _whatever_! Yes, I'm a bloody animagus. I'll get to it later!"

Jerking her sleeve over her hand, she wiped her eyes roughly, staring around the room with a sour look in her eyes.

"Hell, Remus, can't you keep your mouth shut?" She muttered angrily to herself.

"I tend to blurt things out." Remus shrugged defensively. "You should know that by now."

Hermione harrumphed and fixed her robes, tugging her sleeve over the ropy, uneven scar.

"This is a rather complicated way to find out who the father of your child is," Luna said conversationally.

"I second that," Ginny groaned, going to lean on her brother before catching herself and leaning instead on the door. "No offense, Hermione, but can we get to the important stuff?"

Hermione sighed.

"I was sorted to Slytherin- yes, I _know_, Ron- but befriended Lily, Remus, and Peter nonetheless. It took me a few months, but I got James and Sirius to accept me. At the time, I was under strict orders not to meddle with the past. I was able to 'find out' Remus' lycanthropy by New Years and, by March, the Marauders successfully created the potion for everyone to become an animagus. I figured it couldn't hurt our chances in the war and took the potion along with Moon-_Remus_, Sirius, James, Lily, and Peter. If it had been only James and Sirius' choice, I wouldn't have, but Remus, Peter, and Lily insisted I should be there, too."

At this, Minerva tensed, angry her prized pupil had broken the law so wantonly.

"I befriended a lot of Slytherins, as I was one myself. Severus included," Hermione added, gesturing helplessly at the man. "During my time there, I was able to find the remaining Horcruxes after researching with the future Death Eaters, and buried them under the roots of the Whomping Willow. I took until the end of the year to relax and recuperate, as well as ward the Horcruxes from being uncovered by anyone unwanted." Hermione sighed. "And, after I got off the train, I found a bathroom at King's Cross station, and came back."

Ron stared at her in shock, still trying to comprehend that Hermione- _Hermione_- could have broken the law so easily, risked everything to help the Order. Not only this, but had been sorted into _Slytherin_, had befriended _Snape_, and people she had dueled with, knew would be future _murderers_.

"Well, that about sums it up," Severus remarked dryly, staring at the girl with a look of hidden shock in his eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm just going to get back to the important bits now," She whispered, forcing the events of her stay in the past to the back of her mind.

* * *

"**Aunt Brenda!" Hermione hollered through the house, entering the front hall. "Are you home?" **

"**Hermione?" An older woman poked her head through the living room door. "Is that you, hon?" **

"**Erm, yes," Hermione replied tentatively, shuffling her feet and looking around the bright hall. **

**Brenda came out of the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of a thoroughly floured white button-up, and gave Hermione a hug. She had, like Hermione, curly hair and dark eyes; but her hair was black and streaked with more than a little gray, and her eyes were a few shades off from the younger witch. About 50, she was short and round; a wand was placed for safekeeping behind her ear and poked out of the mop. **

**She wasn't Hermione's blood relative, as she herself was a witch, but an old family friend that had resurfaced when she had learned of Hermione's magic.**

"**What inspires this sudden visit, then?" Brenda quirked an eyebrow at her somewhat-niece, before shifting her eyes to the young man standing a bit behind her. "Not pregnant, are you?" **

"**No." Hermione's eyes widened, and she shook her head rapidly, loose curls whipping from one side of her head to the other. "No, no, you know that would never be the problem."

* * *

**

"May I pause for a moment and reflect on the dramatic irony of that?" Remus grinned at the girl.

Hermione didn't answer, but stared down into her lap, where she twisted her hands nervously over the hem of her shirt. Remus shrugged and looked away.

"I guess I can't." He sighed.

* * *

"**Then, what do you need, dear?" Brenda asked, a hint of teasing exasperation in her voice. **

"**I was wondering if my friend could stay here for a day or two," Hermione said quickly. Sending an apologetic look over her shoulder at him, she continued, "He's a werewolf, and if the Ministry catches him, he'll be rounded up with the rest." **

**Brenda let out a heavy sigh. **

"**Merlin, the Ministry…" She grumbled. "Is it any wonder I moved to America?" **

**Hermione nodded, anxious for her answer. **

"**Well, I'm open to helping anyone escape from those horrid people." Brenda shrugged. "There's an open guest room next to mine, and I can stop at Selena's house and have her whip up some Wolfsbane potion for you." **

**This last bit was directed to Remus; he nodded in thanks. **

"**Don't be shy, Remus," Hermione teased. **

**The man rolled his eyes at her, and she grinned. **

"**Lovely to meet you." Remus extended a hand to Brenda, who shook it firmly. **

"**The same to you." Brenda smiled. "Brenda Jameson." **

"**Remus Lupin." **

**Brenda nodded, then turned her head to one side, scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes. Remus faltered under the inspection, a little wary. **

"**About my age, then, are you?" She finally asked. "Lycanthropy and regeneration and such always confuse me." **

"**Er, no," Remus answered. "I take aging potions to keep how I look consistent with my age." **

**Brenda nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. **

"**Well, then." She grinned, brushing the remnants of flour off her front. "How about lunch, and then I can run down to Selena's for you?" **

"**Oh, Brenda, I'd really like to stay, but I have to get back," Hermione said, her face apologetic. **

"**Oh, no fuss, dear." She waved a hand. "But I trust you'll be back soon?" **

"**Of course." Hermione hugged her aunt tightly before smiling apologetically at Remus, giving him a brief hug as well. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Remus."**

"**No worries." He shrugged. "Wolfsbane potion, food, and free board? What is there to be sorry for?" **

**Hermione smiled and, waving, apparated back to Hogsmeade.

* * *

**

"Um…" Ginny said slowly. "Okay… but… what does that have to do with your daughter?"

"I just wanted to show you why I moved to America," Hermione replied, annoyed.

"Well, I think you should just show us something more relevant," the other girl bit.

"Not really the time to be arguing, you two," Neville sighed. "Merlin knows how long we'll be stuck on this elevator, and if you two are screaming at each other, you'll use up all the air."

Glaring at the man, Hermione hastily conjured a few potted plants. The sweet smell of flowers quickly overtook the cramped space, and Severus immediately decided to develop a migraine.

"There," She harrumphed. "Happy?"

"The colors are all wrong." Neville frowned, gently touching one of the leaves of the plants. "Do you even care about these poor plants?"

"Merlin, Neville, not the time," Ginny groaned, aggravated.

"I think Minerva has fallen asleep," Severus commented dryly.

The occupants of the elevator shot glances at the old woman; sure enough, her eyes had closed, her head resting in the corner of the elevator walls, and her breath was slow and calm.

Luna smiled vaguely, and Tonks chuckled appreciatively.

"I think I'm a bit jealous," Hermione said dryly, and sighed, leaning against the wall.

So, thinking heavily on the past, she continued her story.

* * *

**You know the drill.**

**One or two reviews: Next Monday  
Three or four: Next Saturday  
Five or more: Next Friday**


	5. Chances Lost

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Chances Lost  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count:** 4727  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer: **Not miiiiine. Wish it was, or it would've happened _so _differently.

* * *

So, I fully realize I said I wouldn't update until this Friday, but I get impatient, too. I'm sure you don't mind.

Anyway, this chap is a bit different- only one memory, and then- shock!- we branch out of the elevator. So not everything is the forced interaction we've had so far, and it shows a little more of what's gone on since the books left off.

Yeah. Happy reading! Don't forget a review!

**

* * *

**

**"Snape?" Ron repeated incredulously. "You're going to be _Snape's _apprentice?" **

"**I know." Hermione's mouth twisted into something that tried to be a grimace and nearly failed, thinking of her teacher's unwavering Slytherin qualities, and her own past experiences with him as Danielle. "But there were no other teachers open." **

"**Why don't you just skip the apprenticeship, then?" **

"**Because I need the experience," Hermione said, her voice immediately adopting a bouncy, light tone. "It'll look great on job applications, I'll be a shoo-in." **

"**Hermione, you're already a shoo-in." Harry rolled his eyes. "You've always _been _a shoo-in."**

"**But this will help." **

**The boys rolled their eyes at her unending Hermione-ness and continued with their game of Wizard's Chess. **

"**Besides, he's not all that bad." Hermione shrugged. **

"**Hermione, he _hates _us." Ron's mouth hung open at her optimism. **

"**But he's going to be forced to spend a lot of time with me. He can't continue on hating Gryffindors if he's forced to realize we're not all that bad." She knew this from experience. Severus did not hate all Gryffindors; he had become good friends with Lily and very nearly so with Remus, had he not?**

"**We're used to your unendingly bossy and overly studious ways," Harry sighed, moving a pawn. "He isn't, and he's much more set in his ways. Trust me, you two will hate each other." **

"**Trust _me_, I'll be fine." Hermione smiled. "And Ron's about to get your knight with his bishop."**

**Ron sent the girl a half-hearted glower while Harry replaced the pawn he'd been about to move and instead moved the endangered knight to take Ron's rook. Harry beamed. Hermione merely turned back to the letter she'd received that explained her duties as the Potions Master's apprentice.

* * *

**

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" Ron interrupted.

Hermione sent him a searing glance.

"I'm probably going to go through a lot of things that happened that year, Ronald." Hermione bit, mouth a thin line.

The offending ex-boyfriend was surprised how much she resembled a younger version of the Headmistress with them.

"Fine," He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Continue on, then."

"Ronald, do you honestly have to be so disagreeable?" Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Could you at least show _some_ support? I've worked _so_ hard to keep my life in order, and I'm willingly sharing this with you. You could at least-"

"O_ho_!" Ron laughed bitterly. "_Willingly sharing_? You would never have said a word if it weren't for the Minister _outing _you in front of the lot of us. You're not _willingly sharing_ anything. You don't even _trust _us!"

"_Trust_ you?" Hermione fumed, fists clenched in the folds of her discarded robes. "How could I _trust_ you, after all you'd said to your own _sister_, at what was _supposed _to be the happiest point in her life?"

"Oh, Hermione, please don't," Ginny said tiredly. "I don't have the energy to get myself angry at him at the moment, and it's in the-"

"_Please_, Ginny, _don't_ say it's in the past," Hermione groaned. "The things he said to you shouldn't be said to anyone,_ especially_ not one's own sister."

"For Merlin's sake, how many times do I have to apologize for that?" Ron nearly shouted. "I didn't _mean_ it, you _know_ that, and I-"

"It wasn't just one little thing, Ronald!" Ginny turned on him, face growing red. "If you would be kind enough to recall it, there were several instances, were there not?"

"Oh, Ginevra, _you're my sister_!" Ron roared, throwing his hands up. "No matter what I say to you, you know I love you, and you _know_ I regret all of that! I know I can trust you with my life, because you are _my blood_."

Although the other occupants of the elevator felt this was working towards being a good, heart-warming apology, Ginny and Hermione knew better, and knew that he was working up to what he really meant. Luna looked on in undimmed interest, features untroubled by the vague embarrassment fixed on the faces of the other Order members.

"But _apparently_, _I _can't be trusted with the same by _my best friend_," Ron spat, turning towards Hermione. "_Apparently_, fourteen years of being as close as anything mean _nothing_ in the face of some mystery child conceived in the back of some car somewhere in the parking lot of a bar off in America with some seedy stranger, and-"

Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex hit him at about the same time as Hermione's fist. The enraged man doubled over as wings began to poke out of his long nose, anger quickly turning to shock and horror.

"_Finite incantatem_." Minerva glowered first at Hermione and Ginny, then at Ron. "Mr. Weasley, you should be ashamed of yourself. You are speaking to your sister and your best friend, and if that means nothing to you, then you should at least show them the courtesy they deserve as two of Britain's most respected witches of our time!"

Ginny stood, chest heaving raggedly, against the wall of the dimly lit elevator, eyes closed tightly as a look of pain crossed her face.

"_Ronald_," she whispered hoarsely, "_don't you dare use me as an excuse to hurt Hermione._"

He didn't respond, but sat curled in the corner, arms wrapped around his face. A sob burst out of him, to his further embarrassment, and when he lifted his head to look at his sister, tears were already wiping the blood left from the Bat-Bogey Hex from his upper lip.

Hermione stood in the corner, eyes wide, unmoving. Someone who did not know her well might have thought her chin trembled because she was about to cry; a more experienced person would see the tightness along her jaw, how it produced ominous cracking noises as she fought to keep from grinding her teeth, and how her mouth had pursed into a small button. She was not about to cry, no; she was furious. Her hair frazzled as her magic began to spin out of her grasp once more, electricity crackling in the air. Fists tightened at her sides, and she began to visibly shake.

Suddenly, the dormant lights on the elevator blared into life, then burst, showering glass onto the Order below; a few of them shrieked, and they all ducked, but suddenly froze, terrified, as the elevator gave a groaning report.

"Hermione…" Ginny breathed slowly. "Calm down…"

With those words, the elevator suddenly plunged downwards, much faster than it would have had it been running normally. Now the Order members screamed; but Hermione just stood like a marble statue, hair flying around her face, eyes now pressed shut.

And, just as suddenly as it had begun, the elevator suddenly felt as if it had fallen into a pool of jell-o; the impact jarred the Order, but didn't harm them, as the elevator bounced up and down a few times on whatever was supporting it. The doors banged open, and Ginny and Tonks, who had both been leaning against them, spilled out onto the marble floor outside.

The bright light of the atrium was shocking after so long in the elevator, and most of the Order recoiled, readjusting their eyesight, before they could contemplate moving. Hermione, however, now returned from her state of near petrification, sped away, chasing a small sign which read 'apparition point'.

Before any of the others could stop her, she had stepped into the gold circle inscribed on the marble floor and vanished.

Ginny groaned, wheeling on her brother.

"Why, Ronald?" She hissed. "Why do you ruin _everything_?"

"You listen here-" Ron began, ears turning red. "I never-"

"_Silencio_!" Ginny snapped, and her brothers speech promptly disappeared. "Who knows if we'll ever get the rest of the truth now?"

A melancholy sigh escaped her as the group stared pensively at the spot where Hermione had disappeared.

* * *

Ginny sat at her kitchen table, a bottle clutched in one pale, freckled hand. The other supported her head, vibrant curls weaving between her fingers as she sighed.

It had been so long since everything had changed. Merlin, it had been _seven years_, and she still missed him. She _still _woke sometimes feeling as if she could do nothing but lie in her cold bed, feeling the slow acidic burn of loss creep outwards from her chest. _Still _woke with her losses weighting her limbs down, turning her body to a cold-burning prison that only kept her from Harry, from the happiness she had at the age of 16.

Unwrapping her fingers from the bottle before her, Ginny pulled at the long, silver chain at her neck, feeling along to the ring at the bottom.

He had given it to her just before the last battle, when he found out. Oh, yes, he was ever a gentleman, Ginny smiled bitterly, eyes fogging as her other hand disentangled from her hair and rested itself on her stomach. The ring was beyond Ginny's expectations of anything a 17-year old boy could choose; Harry had explained that he wanted her to understand he would always give her the best, as she deserved. He was fighting to make the world right again, he said, so that they could live without the fear his parents had had while raising him in his first year.

Of course, she had cried; but it in a much happier way than how she cried now. They were going to be happy together, and married the day of Ginny's 17th birthday, when she would legally be able to get married in the wizarding world. They were going to have as many children as possible- something they both agreed on, that a big family was best, and with all the money Harry had inherited from his parents, they would never be lacking. In fact, it had been a well-known secret that Ginny had been in her fourth month of pregnancy when Harry had died.

She never knew the fifth.

Yes, some mornings, it was difficult to get out of bed and face the world.

* * *

It was late, much too late for this _ridiculous _idleness, in more than one way, Severus Snape thought sourly, summoning a bottle of wine from his cellar and pouring it into the waiting glass. Really, he shouldn't even _have _these, let alone be pulling them in their eternally sentimental cage from the dustiest corner of his library.

As he turned the lid of the ornate onyx box up, the smell of jasmine seemed to seep out; his hard, cold eyes regained the feeling they lacked at most times. Sadness pulled at the corners of his eyes and mouth, softening the hard lines normally present there into an expression that clearly spoke of regret and loss. The dark eyes feared by many lesser-willed people perused the contents of the box, flitting over dozens of letters, photographs, trinkets, and other memorabilia. Normally steady hands now shaking, he lifted out a scroll tied with an iridescent ribbon, jerking back when a nearly-square box the size of his thumb tumbled conveniently into a depression beneath his palm.

Immediately dropping the letter, Severus snapped the box lid shut and yanked his hand back, summoning a bottle of firewhiskey to replace the wine.

He was going to need a lot of it to face this after so long.

* * *

Ron lay nearly flat on his broom, feeling the wind push the hair from his face like a comforting mother. The ground blurred past definition below him. Colors melded into each other, becoming the design on a dress, wrinkled in over itself on the sympathetic mother's lap.

The youngest Weasley male knew he had done bad things in his lifetime. He knew that a certain few were unforgivable, and that most of them pertained to his only sister.

What he said to Ginny before Harry proposed… what he said to Ginny _after _Harry proposed… what he did at the dinner where Ginny and Harry had announced her pregnancy… what he did to Harry upon getting drunk and finding him alone, with the _motivation _of his sister's pregnancy… what Ginny overheard him say to Hermione about her, her pregnancy, and her engagement just three days before Harry's death… what he said to Ginny in defense of what she'd overheard…

_Everything _he hadn't done for her after Harry's death, and after her miscarriage.

It was no wonder to him that Ginny had renounced him as a brother.

Darting over the silent, stoic moors, Ron tried to speed away from the guilt that lagged him down.

* * *

Severus hesitantly reached back towards the onyx box, but snapped back at the last second, losing his nerve, and instead reached for the firewhiskey bottle.

He berated himself for being so foolish; he had promised someone, long ago, never to discuss anything the contents of this box pertained to again. And he had promised himself to never remove it from its prison, trapped underneath a mountain of books that had been purposely designed to make it difficult to remove this gift.

That day should not have been any different; there were other times when he was faced with the Order, with reminders of the War and the fall of Voldemort. But he had not counted on being with them for so long, in such close quarters, with such coarse reminders of their hardships from Minister Hall.

Yes. Of course. This was the reason he now swayed in his seat, eyes dull and unfocused. The War. Nothing else.

And, since there were no other reasons besides the War that caused him to now proceed to drink half his stock of firewhiskey, he decided it was safe to reopen the ornate box and sift through its contents and the Past it held. After all, it wasn't what the contents of the box pertained to that ensnared him so tightly. It was only the War. And this box had little to do with the War.

* * *

Remus shuffled through his small apartment, going through the motions of making himself a nice cup of tea. It struck him heavily that, with the exception of Hermione, everyone would most likely be swallowing the past and what they had learned today with a healthy dose from the selection of Rosmerta's finest. Well, excepting himself, of course, as he was making tea, which was rather inoffensive. But he had seen their methods of _coping_ after the war, and with such a day as today, the werewolf knew that, were he to pop into any of their sitting rooms at that very moment, chances were high he would find them well on their way out of sobriety.

But Remus sat at his kitchen table in a silent apartment, passively waiting for the kettle to announce the water ready for the mug sitting on the counter. The lack of noise was oppressive, pressing down on him, willing him to leave the house and do as his colleagues were doing at that very moment. He could apparate out of his apartment, to Hogsmeade, and go to the Three Broomsticks. He could go up to Rosmerta, who had no idea where he'd been when _he'd_ gone missing, and order the largest mug of her best, strongest wares, and no one would mind. No one would stare at him, drinking in a pub. He could sit there the whole night if he wanted to, and people would just say, 'oh, he fought in the War; poor man must be traumatized, no wonder he's been here so long.'

An aggravated snarl ripped out from his throat, and Remus clenched his wand in his hand, forcing these thoughts from his head.

The whistle of his kettle seemed like the most glorious sound ever to pierce the silence of his apartment; Remus jumped to his feet and turned the stove off, pouring the water into his mug. Without his notice, the thoughts of just thirty seconds earlier swam away in the steam swirling around his face, and Remus smiled again in relief.

It was going to be alright, as long as he had his tea.

* * *

Neville did not question how his wife knew that Ginny would need their help. Of course, it was predictable that today- with so much mention of Harry's death and the War from the Minister, and so much mention of Hermione's disappearance, and the schism in the Weasley siblings- would be cause for concern in the case of Ginevra Weasley. And so he quietly apparated along with Luna to Ginny's apartment in order to help in any way he could. Luna said that it might be better if she went alone, but Neville thought that if Luna _helped_, it may end up with her falling prey to Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex. Rather than risk her nose, Neville preferred to go along as some sort of buffer between his wife and the probably-drunk redhead.

And, of course, when the couple appeared in Ginny's living room, they found her curled up on the couch with a half-empty bottle of muggle beer, and an emptying twelve-pack on the ground. Wordlessly, Luna floated over to her, plucking a bottle out of the pack and falling gracefully next to her friend.

Neville sank into an armchair across from them, not knowing quite what to expect now.

"You know, we're probably never going to get the rest out of her, now," Ginny grumbled, turning bleary eyes to the blonde woman next to her. "We're just going to be left to _speculate_ for the rest of our lives. I doubt anyone knows who Sara's father is but Hermione herself. Or why she left, or what happened in the past. Any of it. It's all gone. We'll never know."

Neville dimly thought this was an attempt on Ginny's behalf to redirect her own thoughts to something safely out of the sphere of Harry; Luna merely frowned thoughtfully.

Ginny closed her eyes as she went over her memories of the stay in the elevator.

"God, those memories she showed us told us absolutely nothing, did they?"

"On the contrary," Luna countered. "We now know Hermione is an animagus. We know she has a daughter that is nearly three. She left school because of something that happened at the end of her 7th year."

Ginny set down her bottle, and Neville idly recognized this being confirmation that Ginny was now so wrapped up in Hermione's story that she'd put her own on the back burner.

"Why did she say she left?" Ginny chewed her lip.

"She didn't," Luna responded, setting down her own unopened bottle. "She said it had gotten to be too much."

"_What_ got to be too much?" The redhead slurred, throwing her head back to rest on the couch. "_What happened_?"

* * *

Tonks sighed, wrapped up in a fleece blanket on the couch as she stared at the ground. There was obviously so much more to Hermione than any of them had guessed, and so much more had happened while she was away that the secretive witch hadn't even begun to hint at. But this hardly held her attention; her mind was on the War, on how it had changed all of them.

Despite her close friendship with Remus _now_, four years ago, she had hardly been able to look at him for the humiliation it caused her. Their relationship had been one of the crash-and-burn variety. After so long of waiting, they had expected so much of each other, and could not possibly live up to the standards they set against one another. They lasted a paltry couple of months, and hadn't spoken for a few years, until Remus had reappeared from his own sabbatical about two years before Hermione. By then, Tonks had been married, but they apologized profusely and had become close friends. She couldn't say she only felt platonically for the werewolf- she had pined after him so long when they were younger, it was nearly impossible to say she couldn't see him in that light. But she was faithful to her husband, keeping her old feelings for the werewolf in the back of her mind- as it was, she loved her husband very much, where her feelings for Remus were no more than that of the remembrance-of-a-first-love variety- and they remained steadfast friends.

And because of this, she knew something odd had come over him in the elevator that day. He was too quiet, and didn't speculate in the murmuring whispers the others did. The Auror had been trained to be suspicious both by her superiors and her experience in the War, and knew there was something there to investigate.

"Ben?" She called up the stairs to the room she shared with her husband. "I have to go visit a few friends for awhile. I'll be home later."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall normally would never participate in the idle gossip of youth. But she couldn't help but be curious about the events of that day, and she sat in the Headmaster's office, staring up in wonder at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

At the moment, he was sleeping, glasses dangerously close to slipping off his crooked nose, slouched down in the chair he'd been painted in. Minerva so wished he would wake up and impart some of the seemingly infinite wisdom he held. But, unfortunately, he dozed on, and Minerva sat in silence, waiting for him to wake, not having the heart to wake him herself.

* * *

Ron shut his apartment door behind him, weary and ready to fall. His broom clattered to the floor as he tossed it away, throwing himself onto the couch. Though his body begged him for sleep, his mind ignored this and churned up years worth of memories.

Hermione _had _seemed to change in 7th year, just before Halloween. She had suddenly become so much more weary, and much less inhibited. Several times, he had seen her disappear from the map, from the 7th floor corridor, where he knew the Room of Requirement to be. No matter how many times he asked, he could never get an answer about what she was doing in there, but her visits to the room became even more regular after Christmas vacation.

What else had changed? Ron frowned as he thought back. What had caused her to need to run away? What in the world could cause _Hermione_ to want to leave _school_?

* * *

"You agree, then?"

"Yes," Tonks nodded at Ginny. "He knows something. I'd be willing to bet Hermione told him who the father was."

At this, Luna bit her lip, obviously wanting to impart her abrupt and vague wisdom, but didn't say anything. Neville noticed this, but following his wife's lead, kept silent. Ginny hopped to her feet, wobbling as she paced her living room.

"We need to have everyone meet up again, then, and get the truth out of him."

"Why don't we just ask Hermione?" Luna suggested, seeming perplexed at the complexity of Tonks and Ginny's scheming.

"She'll never tell us, now," Ginny imparted sadly. "She only let us get the fact a child exists at all out of her because we had her stuck in an elevator. If whatever happened was bad enough that she didn't tell us she had a daughter, I doubt she'll tell us who the father is."

A pensive silence fell over the group, and Neville sighed heavily.

"Floo him now, Tonks," Ginny said decisively. "Tell him to meet us tomorrow."

"Where?"

"Here, I guess." Ginny nodded, looking around. "I'll make dinner."

* * *

"She spent an entire _school year_ in _1977_?" Minerva felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. "And you _let her_?"

"_Let_ her?" Dumbledore's portrait replied, sounding amused. "Gracious, no. I practically commanded it of her."

"You-" Minerva's eyes grew wide. "_Why _would you do that, Albus?"

"Well, with the exception of the locket, which Regulus had already obtained, the diary, which was in Lucius Malfoy's possession, and Nagini, who indeed was not a Horcrux after all, Miss Granger was able to locate and recover all of the Horcruxes, did she not?"

Minerva seemed at a loss for words, shaking her head slowly.

"I assure you, Minerva, it was not the most severe of laws that I have helped to shatter in my lifetime." Albus paused, and then chuckled. "Well, I don't suppose this counts, as it _didn't_ occur in my lifetime, now, did it?"

As he chortled to himself, seemingly finding this amusing, Minerva developed a spasm in her upper lip.

"Oh, Minerva, do calm down." Albus sighed. "I believe there is a tin of lemon drops in that cabinet on the far wall, if you would like to treat yourself to one."

And, as if solely for the purpose of enraging the Headmistress, the portrait had its own tin of lemon drops, from which the former Headmaster plucked a candy, popping it into his mouth.

* * *

Severus chortled to himself, reading an old letter with bloodshot eyes. The notion that he should not have been doing this tickled the back of his mind, with much the intensity of a far-off alarm reminding him that he should, in fact, be leaving the room, as it was on fire. Something about a promise, and repression, and prisons in mountains.

No, no, he waved the thoughts away. He had never promised not to help someone escape from prison. Besides, they were just letters, _they_ hadn't repressed anything, especially not a jail sentence, or his library being on fire. And it wasn't as if he was _discussing _it. That would be _completely _different; he had promised never to _discuss_ it again, and he certainly was not doing that. Yet. Unless there was a house elf somewhere that would like to reminisce with him? Where was his house elf, anyway? Had she gone to go deactivate the fire alarm spell?

"Callie!" He shouted, voice echoing in the dusty library.

The sound of his own voice surprised him as it knifed through the silence; hadn't something been making tremendous noise? He was sure someone had been shouting something. Something about escaping prison, he thought with a decisive nod, because it had been on fire.

The house elf appeared by his elbow, glancing up at him warily.

"Master called Callie?" She murmured, shuffling her feet.

Severus stared at the house elf for several seconds in a stupor before breaking into a grin.

"D'you 'member I used t'be happy?"

Sensing danger, Callie merely bowed, backing up slowly. Severus wondered if it was he _himself_ who was on fire, because Callie had that apprehensive look on her face, and _something _had to set that alarm off, and the library didn't appear to be escaping prison. No! On fire, it wasn't on fire. Yes, that was right. He was on fire, because he had escaped prison. A frown crossed his face; why didn't he _remember_ prison, then? Had he repressed that, too? Perhaps he had put it in his pensieve. It struck him that his _pensieve_ might be on fire, too, and he spun around in his seat, hair swinging as his eyes darted around the room to search out the basin. There it rested, in the cabinet; it was not on fire, but it could escape and come dangerously close to the fireplace. The fact that a fire was not indeed lit at the moment did not dissuade him from this line of thought, as Severus might walk too close to it when he was escaping the mountain of prison books, and he was on fire, so a spark could land in the grate, and then the pensieve would escape and come too close, and-

"Callie will get master a sobering potion, master."

"An' a buck't o' wat'r, thank y', Callie." Severus smiled vaguely. "Y're a w'ndr'ful lit'l elf."

* * *

"Tomorrow?" Remus repeated uncomfortably, shifting in his seat as his eyes fell away from the fireplace. "For what?"

"Dinner at Ginny's," Tonks' head replied cheerily. "Her mother showed her all these recipes she wants to try out herself."

Remus paused at the mention of Molly's cooking, hungry at the thought in spite of the feeling that this was going to be about much more than dinner. However, he knew that there was no way to escape it; they were very persistent, and if they wanted what he knew about Hermione's stay in America, they were going to find out.

He sighed and nodded.

"Alright, then. Tomorrow."

* * *

**Alright! Probably more confusing than anything, but reallly, it'll all come together.**

One to three reviews: Next Sunday  
Four to six reviews: Next Friday  
Seven to twelve: Next Wednesday  
Thirteen or more: Tuesday

Please review!!


	6. Secrets, Alcohol and Numbers

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Secrets, Alcohol and Numbers.  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **6594  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?

* * *

**I'm sorely disappointed in the review count for last chapter. The only reason I'm updating now is because I got itchy and impatient. This chapter won't give you too much, but they keep getting longer, so maybe some new information slipped in there. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own it- hell, I don't even own the hall where Hermione's meetings are! The description is of a real place in my town where there are real AA meetings. Brenda and Juliana are mine, though. Well, actually, Juliana's kind of based on my grandmother, so I guess she's not really mine either. Damnit. **

**Thank you to reviewers: Tazjay, Looly, Ember Riddle, F75, and Wasu. The one labelled "hello sam" doesn't get a thank you. (Come on, Brandon, don't read the summary, ask me what ships I have, and write a review just because we're bored in study. You don't even read HP fics. Go back to Bleach and 24.)**

**Alright! Here's the chapter. Review this time!!!!!!

* * *

**

"Alright," sighed Remus as he sat down at Ginny's kitchen table, "let's get this over with, then."

"What do you mean?" Ginny smiled too brightly, setting down a large salad bowl.

The werewolf raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't think I don't know why you've invited me here. You want what I know about Hermione's stay in America."

"Can't we enjoy the company of a, erm, fellow, erm, war hero and, ah, enjoy dinner?"

There was a slight pause, before Ginny scoffed.

"Alright, that was awful. We give."

"You're the only one who saw Hermione while she was gone," Tonks said gently. "She's not going to tell us anything. We need your help."

A long sigh escaped Remus as he glanced at the three women- and one rather unwilling man- staring expectantly at him.

"Alright," he gestured at Ginny. "You want the story so badly, I'll tell you all I know."

The three women leaned forward subconsciously, eager to catch any essence of Hermione's story that might eke out into the warm, lasagna-scented atmosphere of Ginny's apartment. Neville, on the other hand, sagged backwards into his armchair, tired of the women's curiosity, but intrigued in spite of himself.

"Alright," the werewolf repeated. "Where to begin…"

* * *

**It had been a long time since the end of the War, but anyone would be a fool to say that any member of the Order was happy now; while Voldemort himself had been vanquished for the second- and final- time, his reign had had a lasting effect on each of the nine. None of them were happy without each other- or others, such as the case with Snape, had _never_ been happy- and Hermione's desertion weighed heavily on their minds.**

**This applied to Remus especially, and he shifted his weight on the supposedly once-plush bar stool. The stool was of a dark, faded wood, with yellow foam escaping the edges of a dark green vinyl seat cover. The stool belonged to the Last Call pub, whose interior matched the quality of said stool upon which Remus Lupin had faithfully sat, hours on end, nearly every night for the last three years. **

**Of course, it was only _nearly_. He told himself this very often. One night every month, Remus quietly took his leave of the well-used bar stool earlier than usual, traveled back to an old house that had once been as well known to him as his bar stool, and patiently waited. At about one hour to sunset, a kindly, middle-aged witch by the name of Brenda would apparate in. And, with side-along apparition (werewolf attacks during the war had slowly grated away tolerance in the eyes of the Ministry, and so Remus found himself without a license) she would bring him to her home in the western United States. There, he would enjoy a precious few cheated hours of sunlight before taking the Wolfsbane potion and transforming for the night.**

**Then, while in the form of a wolf, the once-prestigious Order member would allow himself to be shuffled into a magical trunk-like compartment. At about seven hours before dawn came to Brenda's home, she would pick up the trunk and apparate back to the Shrieking Shack. The time difference would bring Remus out of the sway of the moon, and he would once again become a man. The witch would help him to exit the trunk, administer various pain relieving potions, and guide him back to his room in the boarding school.**

**It was on those days Remus had not the energy to drag himself to his bar stool, no matter how much he longed to. It was this day, the day after the full moon, that kept him at _nearly_ and not quite to _every_.**

**The last time Remus had seen Hermione, she had been leaving him in the care of Brenda, her close family friend, for the fifth or sixth time. This was nearly two years ago; the young witch had disappeared soon after, leaving a note very similar to one he had seen from a close friend very similar to this witch a long time before. Brenda had never told him anything about seeing her, and Remus had given up asking.**

**On this particular night, Remus had spent more time on his stool than usual, and as time flitted by, his sobriety went with it. Not that this was particularly odd; hours upon a bar stool nearly every night seemed to strip away one's defenses. However, the thoughts idling in the lycanthrope's mind were his last defense; he tended to _do_ things while he thought, and in his case, doing wasn't holding a bottle to his lips. For example, at the moment, he was scribbling numbers on a napkin; nonsensical math that he was sure had a type of genius procedure to it, was sure could lead him to an answer. **

**22 months since Hermione's disappearance, minus the 21 months since Professor Snape had stopped brewing his Wolfsbane potion each month, causing Remus to be dependent on her aunt Brenda for a supply. **

**The one month remaining, added to the 19 months since Harry's death, then those twenty divided by the four months Ginny was pregnant.**

**These five months, equal to the five he had spent with Nymphadora Tonks, and to the five Ginny had forever lost for her unborn child. **

**These fifteen, added to the five years he had lived as a normal boy before being bitten by Greyback, to equal twenty, the age he currently appeared to be. **

**Divided by five, the number of aging potions he had taken out of his daily regime, he came to a rest at four: for Ginny, Molly, Hermione, and Minerva, all of whom had had their closest relationships torn apart by the far-reaching effects of the War. And, of course, subtracting the three that had been through death, he was left with one. **

"**Who?" Remus slurred, head in his hands. "Who was it?"

* * *

**

At this, Remus was forced to take a break, as this type of reverse-Legilimency proved very tiring after so long. He opened his eyes, glancing back at the group seated around him, and sighed.

"I'm not sure that actually answers anything," Remus mused. "In fact, it only brings more questions, doesn't it?"

"You…" Ginny frowned, staring at Remus concernedly. "You were an alcoholic, as well?"

"Oh, yes." Remus chuckled. "Hermione and I attended meetings together, when we both disappeared. That's actually how I found her, when she moved."

Everyone fell into another pensive silence, and Ginny glanced the case of muggle beer still sitting by the couch with some trepidation, eyes then darting back to Remus. He caught this and chortled again.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "I'm not quite tempted by it."

An embarrassed flush colored her face, and she glanced away.

"Who was it?" Luna asked abruptly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the announcement of Remus' alcoholism.

"Pardon?"

"Who was the one left, that Hermione had lost? And how did you know she had lost anyone at all?"

"Well, she _told_ me," Remus said frankly. "It was a complete accident, of course, and very vague- she never gave me a name, or specifics, or anything of the like. All I know is that she stopped seeing whoever this was just before she left."

Ginny paused, a look on her face that spoke of dread.

"She hadn't been cheating on Ron, was she? Because she broke up with Ron in March, all on her own, two months before she left, and seemed quite fine with it."

"I can't tell you that, Ginny," the werewolf sighed. "Only she can."

"If only she would _answer_ our questions, willingly."

"We haven't _asked_ her-" Luna said irritably, but was interrupted by Tonks.

"Maybe we can find something else in your memory," the morphing witch suggested somberly.

Remus nodded, closing his eyes and preparing himself once more.

* * *

_**Who?**_

**This question plagued him often, the remainder of an odd conversation he'd had with the secretive witch one of the first times he'd been brought to Brenda's home in the United States. The werewolf tried desperately to remember how many months _that_ had been, so that he might somehow calculate the missing answer to his problem, tell him exactly _who_ the _who_ was that day Hermione had accidentally let slip about something that, years later, he still was not sure about. But, alas, he could not remember if it had been March, or somewhere closer to June. When he took his seat on the bar stool and began scribbling his formula, he _knew_ that it was absolutely imperative that he remember, that he knew how many months had passed since then, but could not find any indication in his memory of which month it had been. **

**And so, he was left without the help of his mathematical proof to tell him _who_ this mysterious _him_ with which Hermione had been infatuated _was_.

* * *

**

"Could I ask you something?" Luna interrupted, breaking the concentration of the group, now seated in Ginny's living room.

"Sure," Remus answered, seeming surprised.

"Your math dealt in numbers that would change with time. So, if you kept doing that formula, over time, your answer would change, and you wouldn't have the same person anymore."

"Oh, no," he chuckled, and Luna was surprised he seemed to have an answer for this so quickly. "See, 19 years had passed since James and Lily had gotten married, when they were both 19, and 19 days after the last new moon- my favorite time of the month, as that would be the point where the moon has the least hold on me. 19 was the age at which I joined the Order, first realized I wanted to be a professor, and was finally granted the reprieve of the Wolfsbane potion."

He paused for effect, as if letting this all sink in.

"That month was specific to my ridiculous formula because of the number nineteen. It had been nineteen months since Voldemort had been vanquished for the second time."

"S is the 19th letter of the alphabet, you know," Luna said rather abruptly.

"S for Sara?" Ginny mused, eyes wide.

"It must be!" Tonks cried, grabbing a nearby take-out menu to scribble on, herself. "S for Sara, S for seventeen- the age they were when they started the school year- S for-"

"That's not quite where I was going with that," Luna grumbled, rolling her eyes; only her husband noticed.

"I didn't know about Sara," Remus assured them. "But I found Hermione living in Santa Monica about three months after that memory."

"Three months, equals the three representing C, C for California, where Santa Monica is." Tonks' smile brightened as she scribbled this down, too, as if it had any true relevance.

"So, 19 for Santa, and 13 for Monica, and 3 for California!" Ginny beamed over at Tonks, who hastily jotted this in the margins, next to the price of egg rolls. "Add that all up, and you get-"

"35, which doesn't _have_ a corresponding alphabet number," Remus rolled his eyes. "You're botching my system. There was never any correspondence between the numbers and letters. If you put letters into it, you're running the risk of tainting the process. Leave it at numbers."

Ginny and Tonks ignored him as they continued tallying up numbers on their fingers, jotting things down, and concentrating much harder than necessary on a procedure a very, very drunk man had come up with nearly five years earlier. Remus rolled his eyes as they spat numbers at each other in rapid fire, adding and connecting things he didn't think were even _vaguely _connected to his own mathematical formulas.

"But if you separate 35 into more numbers- see, you keep 16, because that was the age that Hermione was when she admitted to me she liked Ron, and then you keep 13, because that was the number of months until she told him she preferred being friends, and the leftover is three." Ginny frowned, shaking her head.

Tonks' pen ran out of ink, and she quickly shook it, panicked, cursing that Ginny lived such a muggle lifestyle in those days. Luna calmly handed her another, and the cotton-candy-hair-colored woman scrambled to write down what Ginny was still spouting off.

"Well, three has no significance, so obviously that must be one and two put together, because one is the number of people who at some point could have impregnated her, to my knowledge, whether or not they _were_ broken up."

The still-somewhat-buzzed redhead looked up triumphantly, seeming to come to a conclusion within her own borrowed math. Luna only raised an objective eyebrow at the only Weasley girl.

"Do you really find it likely Hermione's only slept with your brother?" Luna gazed calmly at her, then turned her eyes to Tonks. "Do _you_?"

"Well, no," Ginny and Tonks admitted; Tonks continued rather brazenly, "but unless someone _else_ knows who she's been shagging, we don't have much help in the suspects department."

"But I just think it's so unbelievably _obvi_-"

"What did the two stand for?" Remus frowned, shifting in his seat to peer over Tonks' shoulder at the menu. His voice drowned out Luna's as he brought the group back to the point.

"Oh." Ginny frowned thoughtfully, trying to think. "Well, I don't know. Two months? What happened two months ago?"  
"Not two months _ago_," a new voice entered, "_for_ two months."

Hermione, sounding weary and as if she were dreading this, stepped out of Ginny's fireplace, unfolding bent-up limbs and shaking soot from her robes.

The group froze, suddenly unsure what to say. Somehow, in Ginny's mind, '_hello Hermione, we were just discussing who you've been shagging and the significance of numerology in determining the parentage of the secret child you've hidden from us the past three years, would you care for some tea?'_ just didn't seem right.

"Er," the redhead tried, "hello, Hermione. Would you care for some lasagna?"

"No, no," The witch waved a hand dismissively, "I've already eaten. I just figured that… well, you'd have some… _questions_ remaining, I suppose."

Luna shot a triumphant look at Tonks and Ginny, who seemed utterly crestfallen that, instead of resorting to their numerology, they were about to be given the answers from Hermione herself.

"I _told_ you she'd _tell_ us if we only _asked_," Luna tsked, moving over on the couch to let Hermione sit down.

"I can't stay for an interrogation session," Hermione warned. "Because- and I've dreaded accidentally saying this to you for a very long time, and made up _so _many excuses in lieu of saying it- the sitter expects me home around seven, as that's usually when I'm home from work."

Remus sat very still, contemplating the math in front of him, and wondered if letters did have some connection, after all.

Seven o'clock- G, for Gainesville, Georgia, where Hermione had first brought him to Brenda's, seeking protection from the Ministry.

Ministry- M; 13, plus two for Brenda and three for California, where she had later relocated, came to equal 18- R for Remus. He gave a short, humorless laugh, and added an A to make himself Remus the Alcoholic who hid from the Ministry with Brenda in California. 19. S. Secret. Yes, it had been quite a secret.

"I'm not going to go into my memory with you tonight," Hermione informed them, sighing. "I have to be home very soon, and anything I show you now will just bring more questions."

"Why don't you just _tell_ us?" Luna asked, sounding more and more exasperated with everyone's secrecy and roundabout ways of asking things.

Hermione remained silent for a moment, head bowed in contemplation at the floor.

"It's not the kind of thing where I can just give you a name and that will be the end of it," she said quietly, avoiding their eyes. "You won't understand until you know the full story. Perhaps you won't _ever_ understand the reasons I have for what I've done in my life."

A bit perturbed, Remus frowned at the crown of the witch's head, before sighing, bringing his mind back to the numbers they had been adding. One, two, 13, and 16, he believed, was the final count, was it not? A, B, M and P. What on Earth did that stand for?

"But I suppose the least I can do for you is compile a collection of my memories that could make it easier for you to understand," Hermione sighed, still not looking at any of them. "If you'd like, I will drop off my pensieve tomorrow, along with the memories you'd need to follow what happened, both before and after I left."

Ginny and Tonks still seemed mortified to have been caught gossiping about their friend; Luna, however, smiled brightly.

"That would be lovely, Hermione," Luna said softly, hand reassuringly on Hermione's shoulder. "And I'm honored to know you're trusting us with what you've obviously kept so secret for so long."

A flicker of _something_ crossed Hermione's face as she glanced up at Luna; it seemed disturbed, almost afraid, and the former Gryffindor frowned.

"D'you alread-"

"We don't need to know anything else tonight, Hermione," Luna assured her smoothly, brushing ashes from her cloak in a maternal way. "It's quite alright."

Hermione nodded and stood again, preparing to Floo back to her own home. She paused and glanced around, almost ashamed, before meeting the eyes of Ginny, the closest friend she had.

"I just hope none of you think badly of me for what I've done, after my disappearance _or_ before it."

And with that, Hermione was gone.

Remus contemplated even more what Hermione had just said. He already knew what she'd done _after_ her disappearance; hell, he'd been there with her at the meetings. He'd heard her story there, when she introduced herself as _Melinda_, in a vain attempt to hide her true identity. But before she left? He could not, for the life of him, understand what she had done wrong _before_ she left. With the type of logic he used to borrow from the old, well-used bar stool, Remus concluded that the number 35- the letters _a, b, m_ and _p_- had to be the answer to this question. It had to tell him what had led to everything else in Hermione's life.

With a confused frown, Remus realized Hermione had never told them _what_ had gone on for the two months that represented this_ b_. More questions.

He needed some tea. Fast.

* * *

"You know something," Neville accused his wife as soon as they had apparated back home that night.

Luna didn't answer, but floated to the kitchen, pulling her wand out of her bun and flicking it at the kettle. Her long, pale blonde hair fell in knotted waves down her back as water, already warmed by a charm, spouted out of the top in an arc that split to land neatly, without so much as a rebelling drop spilled, into two mugs that raced over to her hands. Teabags already waited inside, staining the water dark.

"You know, I don't see the practicality in using tea leaves at all. They're so dreadful when you accidentally get a mouthful of them. Taking the leaves out, in an enclosed compartment, is just so much more sophisticated than spluttering out half your tea when you get a clump of it in with the drink. Divination never made much sense, either, on that topic. How can you tell the future from a lot of soggy mush typically used to create a caffeinated beverage? I don't see anyone using mashed potatoes to tell the future, and mashed potatoes have loads more divining properties than tea leaves."

Neville followed his wife to the kitchen, ignoring her obvious dismissal to his comment.

"Luna," he said in a serious tone, "what do you know?"

"I know plenty of things, love, but not all of them coincide with what we've learned tonight." Luna smiled, handed him his tea, and patted him on his cheek before turning towards their library. "In fact, did you know that a lobster's antenna was called a _rhombus_? Ridiculous!"

"No, no, no. You don't get off that easy." He shook his head, used to his wife's half-answers and her vague truths. "What do you know about Hermione and her daughter?"

"Oh, all you had to do was ask," Luna said, seeming surprised. "Let's see. Sara's nearly three, which means that Hermione was about 21 when she was conceived. Given the memory she showed us that, at 21, she was an alcoholic, it might be safe to say that she didn't _mean_ to have a child, and might not have meant at all to sleep with whomever the father is. It might also be safe to assume that she cleaned up upon learning of her pregnancy, and this is where she met Remus, in the meetings they both attended. As Remus would have said a name if Hermione had been seeing someone when she found him again, one could assume that she was not with the father at the time, and possibly that the father was not in the meetings with them. Thus being, one could conclude that Remus does not know the name or location of the father, and none of us have ever met the man in question."

Neville seemed bowled over by Luna's thought process, and blinked owlishly.

"How do you do that?"

"Simple logic, love. No one _else_ seems to use it anymore."

* * *

Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, and observed the particular silvery strand of memory dangling from her wand tip. Granted, her mind felt much lighter without all of the memories she'd bottled that night, and her past settled into the dim background, out of the spotlight. They were still there, she could still remember them, of course; with a laugh, she remembered being afraid, the first time, so long ago, that she would forget whatever memory she pulled from her mind. But no, it was only like one pushed the memory behind a smokescreen, putting it out of focus and away from the forefront of one's mind.

Ah, she noted with a detached smile. She was distracting herself again.

This particular memory waving at her from her wand tip was of Juliana.

Juliana was a rather crude older woman that Hermione had met in her AA meetings in California. At said meetings, Hermione had gone under the name of Melinda, a strange attempt on her own behalf to reduce the risk of anyone finding who she was, _as_ she was. While the secretive witch was still under the Fidelius charm, she wasn't quite sure of the charms limits, and wasn't sure that if someone physically _saw _her, they wouldn't recognize her.

This aside, it was Juliana that had taken an immediate and strange liking to Hermione. Nearly without the younger girl's consent, she had set up to become her sponsor, and arrived at Hermione's door every night to take her to a meeting.

"You know the saying," Juliana had growled as Hermione groused at her, having shown up just as Hermione's favorite television show began. "90 meetings, 90 days. It's been a _week_. Now get your alcoholic ass _off_ the couch and in the damn car!"

But, despite her rude nature, Hermione came to see Juliana somewhat as a protective force, there to save her from herself and her own destructive nature.

Again, Hermione was distracting herself.

* * *

**The meeting was held in a dimly lit hall at a small, local airport. The airport itself was mostly unknown, mostly only giving lessons for pilots licenses. The hall was in a barracks-like building made of green-painted metal, with a ridged metal roof. Inside, a dark gray, threadbare carpet spanned the room, only giving way to a faded orange tile where there was a small kitchen area. Folding chairs were crammed into every available place in the too-small room, and the lights were dim- Hermione couldn't clearly see face of the woman standing at the podium, and supposed this made it easier for some of the shier members to talk in front of the group. **

**Hermione supposed that, after six months of meetings, it didn't really matter anymore. The point was that she was there, and not at the bar. Adelaide's pity and remorse had been a blow to her pride, but they had gotten her here. **

**Juliana sat to her right, looking at the speaker in with a content focus that Hermione could not copy. Slightly wrinkled hands folded over a large stomach, while coarse, silver and black hair fit smoothly behind her ears. Juliana was not a very beautiful woman, and aging was not treating her well, but somehow the 60-something-year-old was striking in her own way, and commanded respect immediately. **

**Without taking her eyes from the speaker, Juliana leaned towards Hermione and gruffly muttered, "Where have you been?" **

"**What do you mean?" The witch in question murmured back, eyes wide in supposed innocence.**

"**You didn't come to the meeting on Monday," Juliana accused her, steely eyes tearing from the speaker and probing Hermione's chocolate-colored ones. "You think that just because you've been here half a year, you get to slack off?"**

"**N-no," Hermione stammered, intimidated by the latent anger in Juliana's voice in spite of her own better knowledge. "I was… visiting home." **

"**Went back to England?" Juliana raised an eyebrow in obvious doubt. "You didn't mention any trips before._ And _you were at the meeting Saturday. You traveled from California to England for a grand total of, at most, three days?" **

**Hermione's face reddened, and she cursed having such a convenient way to travel at times like these. It was only Wednesday (Juliana imposed a strict regime of every-other-day meetings, so that she alternated going on Monday-Wednesday-Friday-and-Sunday and Tuesday-Thursday-and-Saturday) and she knew that there was no way to explain that she could forego what would amount of nearly an entire day of travel there, one night spent there, and another day spent traveling home. **

"**Yes." Hermione straightened up in her seat, meeting Juliana's steely eyes once more, letting her see the truth in her own. "That's exactly what I did." **

**Of course, this wasn't an _entire_ truth. Home was not in England, but rather in _Scotland_, at Hogwarts. The school was still open, and Hermione had allowed herself a brief visit here, unbeknownst to many (including the Headmistress McGonagall) as she soaked in the essence of what she had run from three years before.**

**Nevertheless, Juliana gave a satisfied grunt and nodded, apparently accepting that Hermione was telling the truth; while the woman was loud and demanded that she be informed of everything, she had come to a sort of understanding with Hermione that there were certain things in her life that were not to be disclosed to _anyone_, and the topic of _home_ was one of these such certain things. **

**But, instead of turning back to the speaker, Juliana continued to inspect Hermione, a small frown dominating her harsh features. **

"**What?" Hermione shook her head slightly, confused. "What is it?" **

"**You're pregnant, aren't you?" Juliana huffed, tilting her head. **

"**Ex-_excuse me_?" Hermione flustered. "I most certainly am_ not_!" **

"**Yes, you are," The older woman snorted. "I can tell." **

"**Well, thank you, but I don't see any blue lines written across your face, if you don't mind me saying so." Hermione rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat, throat dry and aching for a drink. **

**Juliana raised an eyebrow and suddenly stood, dragging Hermione up by the arm. A few of the members seated behind Juliana glanced reproachfully up at her, but knew better than to say anything to the hot-tempered woman, merely craning their necks to see around her large bulk.**

"**Come on, then. We'll go _get_ a damn test." **

"**Oh, this is completely _absu_-"**

"**If it's so absurd, _why_ do you look like you're choking on your own tongue?" **

**Juliana, seeming calm as she could, grabbed Hermione's arm once more and dragged her out of the hall, letting the heavy metal door slam shut behind them. **

"**I am _not_ pr-" Hermione faltered, then tried from a different angle. "It's completely ridiculous. Trust me." **

"**I can tell a pregnant woman when I see one, _Melinda_." **

**It was another point in Juliana's mentorship of Hermione that, no matter how much the older woman _knew_ Melinda wasn't her name, Hermione was adamant that she continue to call her this. **

"**I…" Hermione shook her head, eyes growing concerned. "No, no, I'm not, I swear…" **

**Juliana grunted, nodding. **

"**Come on, then. Let's go get a test." **

**Hermione had never questioned Juliana's uncanny ability to just _know_ things before, and, feeling a bit hopeless, trailed after her sponsor towards her car.

* * *

**

Of course, Luna had left a _very_ important detail out of the explanation she'd given to her husband on what she _knew_. Abrupt, vague, and brutally honest as she was, even she knew that this was just one thing that had to be kept to herself, until Hermione felt the need to disclose it.

Because, it was just painfully obvious; Hermione had gone to such great lengths to keep her child a secret, but for what reason? Why, in the name of Merlin, would the bright, honest witch they had all known so long keep what was normally a great milestone in the lives of others so quiet?

Because there was something else they didn't know, because there was more to her story. Because she was ashamed of something, and, quite plainly, the father knew no more about Hermione's daughter than the rest of them.

* * *

Ron Weasley knew that, at this point, his sister's curiosity would be killing her, and knew that, most likely, Tonks was not helping. Most likely, Tonks would be spurring Ginny on, encouraging her and probably aiding her in her gossiping ways.

Reasonably, his sister was on his mind quite more than usual. He sat at his kitchen table, staring at the copy of the Daily Prophet spread out before him, and all he could think about were the words he had thrown at his sister and best friend in their seventh year at Hogwarts.

_Unthinking,_ _naïve, _and _easy_ had been two of the mild adjectives thrown at his sister, while he bestowed upon his best friend an accusation of carelessly leading on a blind little girl. He had then learned about Ginny's pregnancy, and his words to them did not improve in their kindness from there.

Needless to say, Ginny no longer spoke to him by the time of Harry's death; Harry himself had given Ron his unspoken forgiveness only moments before his death. This did not improve Ron's standing in his sister's eyes.

Silently shoveling in his breakfast, Ron gave a small sigh and wondered how different life would have been if Harry and Hermione had only stayed to hold everyone together.

* * *

"You know, Severus," Remus offered awkwardly, "I was thinking, earlier, about seventh year."

"What did you have in mind?" Severus replied dryly, glancing over at the werewolf seated on the couch in the library.

Remus gazed at the Potions Master in silence for a few seconds, seemingly lost in his own world, before letting out a small chuckle.

"Danielle, of course."

Severus' brow twitched in repressed frustration, and he took a seat in an armchair across from Remus, seemingly contemplating the small pile of tomes on potions on the coffee table between them.

"What about her?"

"Oh," Remus replied, "how much changed when she came. Or I don't suppose you'd remember much of Danielle's stay that year?"

"I remember," was Severus' grunting reply. "Of course I remember. She was the only one Potter or Black were ever even remotely bullied into… _inter-house unity_ by."

Both knew that, by this, Snape meant something much closer to home than the entirety of the Hogwarts student body. While 'Danielle' had never been able to get James or Sirius to _like_ Severus, with both Remus and Severus as close friends of hers, the Marauders had given him a grudging respect borne of their friend's acceptance of him. After all, if the ever-sharp, hard-to-impress _Danielle_ found him suitable for friendship, he could not truly deserve the treatment they gave him.

"Yes, there was that." Remus smiled slightly. "I don't suppose it's hard to reconcile the fact that, all that time, Danielle was Hermione."

"I don't understand how she was sorted into Slytherin, myself." Severus snorted.

Remus gave his former enemy a smile that seemed to come from a long way away, as if he were only observing.

"I don't understand how, being colleagues and such, and after being _such_ close friends with Danielle in our seventh year, you still call her _Miss Granger_."

"I did not know it _was _her until yesterday afternoon. And I am correct in assuming you did not, either?"

"Oh, of course," Remus nodded. "I've known Hermione by a few names in as many years, but not Danielle."

Severus was getting the distinct impression Remus was taking every opportunity to forego the personal pronoun. He could not imagine what his reasoning was.

"My apologies, Remus, but is there a point to reminiscing? As much as it pains me to admit this, I fail to grasp it."

"Oh," the werewolf shook his head bashfully. "No, I'm just being nostalgic, myself. I should probably get back home, really."

"If you must," Severus agreed dryly, raising an eyebrow.

Remus stood, for some reason suppressing a grin, and took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot by the fireplace.

"Always nice to have these chats, Severus," he chuckled, as he stepped into the grate, spinning away back to his own home.

* * *

"Hermione?" Remus raised his eyebrows, surprised to find the witch sitting at his kitchen table as he stepped out of the fireplace. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Hermione sighed, shaking her head, before offering a weak smile and admitting, "I wanted a drink."

The surprise in the werewolf's eyes softened, and he nodded thoughtfully, pulling two mugs out of his cabinet while turning the knob on the stove for the kettle.

"Thinking back on everything like that does tend to do that," Remus said sympathetically, setting down the tea in front of the tired woman.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes as she took a long drink from her mug.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

Remus shrugged, sitting down across from her.

"Are you going to tell them you came back before… well, before you came back?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and she spluttered into her tea, coughing as she set it down on the table.

"You knew I visited?"

"Hermione," Remus raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head, "of course I knew."

"But, you had gone back to England by that point."

"I knew you would, even when-"

Remus suddenly paused, eyes growing dark, and Hermione stared at him for a moment before standing with a shaky sigh.

"I should get home. Thank you for the tea."

"Er, yes, of course." Remus nodded shortly, still staring in contemplation at the floor tiles.

Without another word, Hermione apparated out of his kitchen with an embarrassed pop resonating in the silence left behind.

Remus was left, staring at the tiles, head spinning.

* * *

"Luna?" Hermione called tentatively through the apartment. "Are you there?"

"In here, Hermione!" Luna called brightly from the kitchen. "Care for some tea?"

"Er, no, thank you," she responded awkwardly. "I've, er, just had some."

"Well, sit down."

Hermione did as she was told, looking around the bright kitchen with unseeing eyes.

"Now, what brings this visit?" Luna smiled, sitting down next to Hermione.

"I wanted to… I wanted to ask if you had…" She shifted uncomfortably. "You seemed to sort of-"

"Know everything already?" Luna filled in calmly, honest eyes not wavering from Hermione's face.

"Y-yes. B-but… how?"

"Oh, I didn't say I _do_. But I _think_ I can give at least an _educated guess _as to most of what happened."

Hermione paused, before sighing.

"I think I'll take that tea now."

Luna nodded sympathetically, flicking her wand at the kettle.

"Wh-what is your… erm, educated guess, then?"

"Well, obviously, there is something much larger than just the identity of your daughter's father at risk here. You didn't _want _him to be told at all, did you?"

Hermione shook her head, eyes downcast in embarrassment. A mug of tea, now full, floated carefully from the counter into her hand, and she accepted it with a grateful smile. Gods, if it weren't for tea…

"You have so many more secrets than you wanted us to ever know." Luna shook her head in sympathy. "It must be dreadful. Have you told anyone the complete truth, for the past seven years?"

"N-not really," Hermione was startled into answering. "Luna, how on Earth d'you-"

"The Room of Requirement." Luna answered before the startled witch could finish her question.

"Pardon?"

"I suppose you got much use of that room in seventh year?"

Hermione's face reddened, and she took a quick gulp of her tea before answering.

"Yes, I suppose it was rather… erm, useful. I was Head Girl, and it had useful… erm, books, to study, and…"

"No, not that year." Luna smiled disarmingly. "See, I found the room pretty useful, myself. There was one room in particular that it would become that I liked to explore; the room where everyone _hid_ things."

Luna admired the fast transition from red to white in Hermione's face before continuing.

"In particular, I found a very interesting diary of a seventh year girl from the late seventies. Or rather, a seventh year girl _in _the late seventies, as she wasn't _from_ the late seventies at all."

"You found Danielle's diary?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Strange that you refer to yourself in the third person. But, yes. In fact, I still have it."

Luna flicked her wand; the door to her study opened, and, from a pile of odd-titled books with subjects ranging from cattle ranching to Japanese customs, came an ordinary, leather-bound journal. Hermione caught it, eyes wide, and glanced back up at Luna, unable to be mad.

"You've had this all these years, and you never told anyone?"

"Why would I?" Luna laughed. "Your social interactions with the teenaged versions of our parents and their friends aren't all that important, however interesting they might have been."

"But- I-"

"Don't worry," Luna assured her calmly. "I've never showed anyone, and I never let on to anyone that I knew where you were going, all through your rightful seventh year."

"But, even if you read this, how did you know?" Hermione shook her head. "Despite what happened when I was Danielle, that doesn't exactly-"

"It wasn't all that difficult to figure out," the blonde witch shrugged calmly. "The Hogwarts paintings are exceedingly informative, if you show them the right respect and kindness. They get surprisingly lonely. In fact, I wouldn't have known at all if it weren't for Greta the Gossip. Her painting was down by the Charms room, but she hardly ever stayed in her own portrait."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. Only Luna would take the time to converse with the Hogwarts paintings, and to take advantage of the stockpile of gossip they held after being able to watch everybody, everywhere, at all times.

"I'm sorry to have kept it so long," Luna said softly. "Maybe, if you let Ginny and Tonks take a look at it, they'd understand better why you did what you did."

* * *

**Hint: **Compare Luna's logic (the answer she gave Neville) to Hermione's memory. If you can use logic, it will tell you something.

We're getting dangerously close to me losing my stock of safety chapters (the chapters that I've already finished between this update and the chapter I'm writing now). If you review really well, I think I can find the inspiration to finish up chapters nine and ten. If not, updates will probably slow down.

Your homework for this chapter is to ask me three good questions. I will answer at least one of them, as long as they're not the obvious plot-killing ones.

I know I told someone, in a review reply, what Hermione's animagus form was, but I decided that it didn't seem right and changed it to something else. It's not a huge change, or really even too relevant, but just thought I should mention it! Sorry!

**REVIEWS:  
**One to five: Monday (the 28th)  
Six to ten: Saturday  
Ten to twelve: Friday  
Thirteen or more: Thursday

**REVIEW!!!**


	7. Letters, Journals, Memories and Tea

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Letters, Journals, Memories and Tea  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **6303  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?

* * *

**You know, you guys and your not-reviewing all the time is starting to get disheartening. Anyway, here is chapter seven, the chapter that I decided to rewrite everything else over. (Not that it was really necessary, I think, from this chapter alone- but this is the chapter that I stopped typing and went "Hey. Wait. This sounds better." **

**I keep losing paragraphs! Whenever I save this, some part of my text disappears! So if something looks like it's, say, missing a paragraph or two, tell me and I'll repost it. **

**Thanks to my reviewers Ember Riddle, pstibbons, wasu, Hello.I'mMarySue, Looly, and MintaM. Your reviews are the only thing that keep me writing. **

* * *

"Remus? What are you doing here?"

Ginny looked up in faint surprise at the werewolf, hands suspended in motion as she stirred a boiling pot full of spaghetti. 

"Did Hermione bring her pensieve yet?"

"What? No, not yet. Why?"

Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose, sat down heavily at her table, a deep frown marring his features.

"Remus, what's wrong?"

"I- I just… could I have some tea?"

* * *

_Sept. 3, 1977 (day one- not including Sorting, Feast, etc.): _

_Cannot believe. Slytherin! Am Slytherin! Of course, alias **is** pureblooded, but honestly! Why on Earth would I not have been Gryffindor? I **am** a Gryffindor! The gods are **trying** to make this difficult for me! _

_Of course, as seventh-year Slytherin girls' dormitory full, have been given quarters behind painting of Florence the Flighty on Third Floor Corridor. Password is 'tempus'. Bloody clever paintings. Was shock to see Prof. D. alive again. Damned (much missed) twinkle again as he gave me rooms. While have complete library, kitchen, and bath (must remember to thank portrait-Prof. D. when return to own time), rooms are decidedly Slytherin-colored. Have not explored thoroughly yet. D. explained that he already expected me, as D. of my time (or rather, of slightly-before-my-time, as much as it pains me to think so) had somehow notified (would question, but is **Dumbledore** after all, and can only guess how he does what he does). This being the case, D. has decidedly bad sense of humor, letting me be sorted to Slytherin and giving me Slytherin-colored rooms. Thankfully enough, all robes, books, etc. will need for year are in rooms. Again, will not question how D. does what he does, only be very, very grateful. _

_Was near fatal shock when, at feast, glanced to left and happened to see teenaged Prof. Snape. Was slightly more heart-wrenching shock when, not five minutes later, glanced over (somewhat in jealousy) at Gryffindor table, only to see Harry, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. _

_Of course, wasn't really Harry. Was James. But looked **so much** like him that can hardly help calling him Harry. Only without glasses, and, though didn't get chance to look closer, probably with different eyes. Sirius, gods! He looks so unbelievably **happy**! Don't believe that, in all time spent at Grimmauld Place, ever once saw him look so happy as did in that one moment. Would never connect by looking at him with the man I knew, forced to stay in his hated mother's house. Remus looks exactly like might've guessed he did at this age, with no real surprise. Peter looks nothing like the man begging for mercy in Shrieking Shack, third year. Can hardly connect. Still looks like timid little ball of obedience, but seems, at least, **good**. _

* * *

"December?" Remus repeated, staring up at Dumbledore's portrait. "She visited in _December_?" 

"Yes," Albus grinned down at the werewolf. "Is there something wrong, Remus?"

"December? I could have sworn… I thought it was _October_."

"No, no, Remus. I believe it was December, 1999." Dumbledore paused, nodding thoughtfully and added, "though, now that I think of it, I do believe some of the portraits saw her very often in 2000, 2001."

"She visited regularly?" Remus' eyebrows raised in surprise. "I was under the impression that… well, I don't suppose it matters, as my previous impressions now turn out to be terribly, terribly wrong."

Dumbledore smiled sympathetically at Remus, who again pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, and sighed.

"So that means, she left California two months later than I thought, and…" Groaning, Remus buried his face in his hands, muttering to himself, "of all the damn things to be wrong about, of _all the damn things_!"

* * *

_Hermione,_

_Can we meet? Your time and place of choice. Preferably very, very soon._

* * *

_Tonks, _

_Mione's just brought her pensieve over. She said, despite that she knew I would tell you to anyway, that I should tell you to come, because you'd want to know, too. We'll order out from that muggle Thai food place. Come ASAP- don't think I can wait too long with it just sitting here all conspicuously like that. _

* * *

_Luna, _

_Ginny says Hermione dropped off her pensieve for us. Like to join us for dinner (Thai) and a show? Ginny's, ASAP._

* * *

_Tonks, Ginny,_

_Sorry am late, but Hermione stopped by with more explanations. Said to refer to it when memories get a bit confusing. Also noted that, since she's not going to be there with us to put the memory in our minds directly, we'll only see, not understand how she felt. I think what I've got should help- I've already seen it (she lost it; I found it- she never knew I had it until recently) and know what it says, but it should help **you**, at least. _

_Says she doesn't want anyone to meet Sara just yet, as isn't quite ready for it, and probably won't be until she's feeling more comfortable with the father knowing. _

_Be there around 6._

* * *

"What is _taking_ that woman so _infernally_ long?" Tonks ground out, shaking her head as she dipped a spring roll in sauce. 

"Dunno. It's Luna. Does she ever need a reason?"

"I don't see why she should be taking any longer, if she had the bloody time to write us a letter after Hermione left."

"Well, quite obviously, I had to make sure she had a proper tracking bead on her, and that took quite some time," Luna entered, giving the now red-faced Tonks a grin. "Because of course she's not going to show her face for awhile, and none of us know where she lives, so we'll have to go seek her out ourselves. So I put a charmed bead in her jacket pocket that will tell me where she is."

Tonks coughed embarrassedly, but Luna merely waved it away, setting down a leather-bound notebook on the table next to the pensieve that was already sitting between the two impatient women.

"You two have to learn patience. It's been nearly three years since Sara was born, I'm sure you can wait."

At the looks on both Ginny's and Tonks' faces, Luna laughed.

* * *

He had been many things in his life, but Severus Snape was _not_ a masochist. 

This did nothing to explain why, for the third night in a row, he sat paying drunken homage to the obsidian box he had removed, in a state of crumbling willpower, from its rightful place in the mountain prison composed of books in the dusty corner of the library. Normally, he would allow himself no more than an occasional glass of wine, to keep himself sane, or perhaps fire whiskey on particularly trying days. Normally, he avoided _looking _at the arranged pile of books that housed the box, let alone _dismantling_ said pile. He might not do as well with avoiding _thinking _about the box, but he could at least hold on to his sanity by not _touching _it.

But now, the objects inside the box were strewn across his table; letters, pictures, all memorabilia of what he no longer was allowed to discuss. The same, thumb-sized box he had so hastily pulled away from before now sat before him, mocking him in all its seeming innocence.

Severus still did not dare touch it. No; he had used his wand to levitate the insipid _thing_ out of the larger box and to the surface of the glass coffee table he kneeled in front of. Squinting blearily, he swayed a bit, lowering his face to the level of the offending item, glowering at it in challenge.

"Go ahead," he barked at it, "sit there so quietly, so innocently. You don't fool me!"

His house-elf, Callie, had been by a few times to stoke the fire and to make sure Severus didn't become _too_ inebriated, but stayed out of the way other than this. By then, she had learned not to interfere with her master when it came to his box.

"_You_," Severus sneered, a gravelly laugh escaping him, "I know what you want me to do. But I won't! I _promised_." This said in a very self-assured manner, as if he could not imagine someone breaking such a wondrous thing as a promise. "_I will not discuss you_."

No, no. Drunkenly diving through this box of things he was no longer allowed to discuss, challenging items as if they held the essence of the people they were associated with- which one might later suppose, with all the references and shallow reassurances, might have been discussing it in itself- and allowing himself to be _tortured_ by the very sight of the box, to the point where he couldn't stay sober if he wanted to keep his own sanity… Severus Snape was not a masochist at all.

* * *

_Remus,_

_Perhaps you didn't already know, I have given my memories and pensieve to Ginny, Tonks, and Luna, who I suppose plan to devour it like any other late night muggle drama movie. I'm sure all you need to know is there._

* * *

_No, Mione._

* * *

Hermione sighed at the parchment in her hand, and nodded to herself wearily, scribbling in the blank space below Remus' note.

* * *

"But if we look at the memories first, then we already _know_ what happened, and reading will just be-" 

"Look, if we read the damn diary first, we'll know how everything happened anyway, and then we'll just have to watch it even though we already know what-"

"But reading the diary after the memories would be pointless and I'd probably fall asleep, and-"

Luna watched Tonks and Ginny bicker with an amused eyebrow raised. The dairy and the pensieve sat on the table, still untouched, as Tonks argued that they should read Danielle's diary first, _then_ look at the memories, and Ginny argued that reading the diary first would render Hermione's memories of her stay in 1977 obsolete.

"Honestly, you two," she clucked, shaking her head. "We'll bring the diary into the memories and read it as we go. Besides, it only affects a year. We have nearly five to go through."

This effectively shut both Tonks and Ginny's mouths, and Luna smiled, eyeing the seemingly innocuous vial that had come with it. Somehow, Hermione had managed to compact the long strand of memories- which, one or a hundred, truly didn't occupy any space- into this vial, eradicating the need to re-bottle each memory as they finished with them and open another. Luna appreciated the woman's thoughtful conciseness.

Feeling satisfied, the blonde witch plucked up the vial and opened it, gently tipping the contents into the basin. She cast a stern look at her friends, a silent warning not to do anything _stupid_, and, taking a tighter hold on the diary, let herself be submerged in Hermione's mind.

* * *

Hermione reeled back in confusion, unable to comprehend, as Professor Dumbledore explained to her that the Sorting Hat's decision was final. 

"But Slytherin?" She choked out, eyes wide, standing to pace the Headmaster's office. "Professor, there must be something you can do! I'm muggleborn!"

"Hermione Granger is muggleborn, dear," Dumbledore told her kindly. "Danielle Parker, with the papers you've given me for her, is a pureblood."

Hermione bit her lip, contemplating. She had purposely created a pureblooded alias, hoping to eradicate any prejudice that would make her stay difficult- but to be put in Slytherin...!

"As it is, there are not nearly enough purebloods left to populate Slytherin house, and they do have to let in others that are deemed worthy enough to overlook their heritage."

This of all things made sense to the confused witch, and she sighed.

"Well, thank you, sir." She sighed. "I suppose I'll be fine."

As Hermione passed by the three and headed for the door, Ginny suddenly frowned, turning to Tonks.

"Tonks… didn't you say you knew Hermione when she was here?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Then why in the name of Merlin would you make such a big deal out of whether to read her diary first or watch the memories? For Merlin's sake, you already know what happens!"

"Yes, but it's-"

The memory went gray, and the three women looked around in shock, before their surroundings faded back in, now a set of rooms that the three surmised were Hermione's, as they saw her lounging on the couch, writing in a newer-looking copy of the diary held in Luna's hands. Ginny quickly grabbed the more worn copy from her friend, opening to the first page to read what Hermione wrote; Tonks suddenly shook her head, remembering to finish her sentence.

"-completely different from her point of view."

Ginny rolled her eyes, then continued to scan the first page of the notebook.

"Oh, I always knew there was something about that Florence painting," she beamed, then continued on, "but there's not much in here. It's just Hermione alternately complaining about Slytherin and talking about what a shock it is to see everyone alive and happy."

"What's the importance of this memory? Hermione's just sitting here."

Hermione set down the notebook with a sigh and stood, further investigating her rooms. Tonks, Ginny and Luna supposed they had to follow.

An average-sized, rectangular room made up the bulk of her quarters; a living room and attached kitchen. The living room was painted in a deep, forest green, with a dark, rich paneling running along the bottom half of the walls. There was a large desk- nearly large enough for Hermione, anyway- and a small bookcase of what could be presumed by Hermione to be 'light reading'. A plush green couch, matching armchair, and a coffee table centered around a good-sized stone fireplace set to the immediate right of the entrance. Beyond that, there was a counter that ran from the front wall halfway to the back, separating the kitchen from the living room.

The kitchen was painted a pale shade of blue, with plain, white counters and a ceramic sink, as well as a refrigerator, which, although it looked muggle, kept food cold by use of charms instead of electricity. Similarly, there was a small stove, microwave, kettle, and other such kitchen items, as well as all the utensils, pots and pans Hermione hoped she would find the time to use.

Wandering back out to the living room, Hermione crossed to the left wall, opening a door here. This led to the library the bookish witch had mentioned in her journal, which was of substantial size and, as noted by the one witch there and the three pretending to be, of substantial quality in regards to books referring to the Dark Arts. There were a few more couches here, and a window that overlooked the lake. The Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin smiled softly before turning and leaving the library to explore the rest of her quarters.

"I get the feeling Hermione wanted us to be very familiar with her rooms," Ginny commented dryly to her friends, raising an eyebrow as they trailed after the seventeen-year-old version of the secretive witch.

Said secretive witch found a large bathroom with a tub sunken in to the ground, much like the prefects' bathroom looked, but on a more private scale, as well as her room, which contained a rather large four-poster bed with a velvety green comforter and a trunk containing all she would need for the year. A door from the kitchen proved to lead to a small, sunny courtyard. It contained a few oddly mismatched flower beds, what appeared to be the beginnings of a vegetable garden, a cherry tree with a stone bench beneath it- which Hermione already knew would be a lovely place to read- and a fountain of water that fell from a gargoyle's mouth into a shallow pond below.

Although she seemed reluctant to leave this place in particular, the out-of-time witch entered back through the kitchen and crossed through the living room back into the library. She lay on one of the couches there, staring over at the painting that took up much of the back wall.

It was of the young four founders in what looked like comfortably used quarters, possibly in Hogwarts itself, each relaxed and intent on their own task. Godric Gryffindor, in sedate maroon robes, sat on a low stool, polishing his sword calmly, while Helga Hufflepuff, wearing purple robes bedecked with yellow stars, sat against the nearby wall, chatting with him as she lovingly fed some small creature a bottle of milk. The two smirked mischievously, sending each other knowing looks, glancing over at their fellow founders every once in awhile as if waiting for something disastrously funny to happen. Salazar Slytherin stood hunched over a cauldron, a look of calm contentment on his face as he added ingredients, hair smoothly tied back at the nape of his neck with a dark blue ribbon, the sleeves of his dark green robes permanently pushed up to his elbows to keep them out of the way. Rowena Ravenclaw, in navy robes of velvet, sat on the windowsill behind him reading a book, side against the window to let the sun press against her, one leg idly dangling from her perch. Occasionally, Salazar would make some quiet remark to her, and she would murmur back, smiling.

Hermione was mesmerized by this, and watched them contentedly for awhile, before a sudden knock at the portrait door jerked her back to life.

Tonks sighed audibly in relief, glad to have something interesting happen.

Hermione opened the door timidly, not having expected anyone to come to her rooms; after all, it was Saturday. Dumbledore had apparently changed the rules between this time and her own; the students arrived on a Friday night, and were given the weekend to spend time with friends they hadn't seen in a few months before being shunted back to class Monday morning.

For this reason, she was not expecting to see Remus Lupin standing outside her door at eleven on the first Saturday morning back to school.

"Hi," he smiled warmly at her, offering his hand. "I'm Remus."  
"Um, hi," Hermione stuttered, shocked at seeing her former professor so young. "Her- Um, Danielle Parker."

"Well, I was just on my way to the first prefect meeting for the year, and Dumbledore said you might like to come, y'know, to get to know some people."

"Oh!" Hermione nodded. "Um, sure. Let me get my shoes."

Remus leaned against the doorway as Hermione ducked down by the couch, where she had apparently shucked her shoes before the memory started.

"He's so… _young_," Tonks murmured, eyes sad as she shook her head.

Ginny glanced over at her sympathetically, knowing the woman would never recover from the effects of Remus' battle with Voldemort's demons, or with his own.

Hermione followed Remus out the portrait hole; Crookshanks darted out at the last second, strutting along beside her.

Similarly, the three grown witches floated around the duo, eager for any snatches of conversation.

* * *

_Sept. 3, again:_

_Have spent Saturday with prefects; of group, Lily, James, Remus, and Snape are immediately known to me. Also, one woman that looks like could be Neville's mum, named Alice. While I wasn't of much use, group introduced itself to me in entirety, attempting to make feel at home and such. Silly people; don't know that am more at home in my quarters than would have been in made up school that came from in Ireland. _

_As I've introduced pretend-self to all of them, think should only be fair do the same here, for posterity's sake. _

_With cosmetic charms, hair is shade of dark blonde, short, straight, and a bit spiky. Eyes are still same old brown, but face is shaped slightly different. Am few inches taller, but other than this, not much different. Family and friends would recognize me, given time and close inspection, but none else. Name is Danielle Jasmine Parker, birth date 18 September 1960 (only changed year to keep simple), parents William and Jane Parker (saw no reason to change their names. Wonder if could contact **my** parents in their younger years. Will contemplate and then decide not to as could change **more** of time stream), no siblings. Personality is irrevocably mine, as cannot stand thought of pretending **all** year to be **completely** different. Background is slightly different; as am pureblooded, had to study certain customs before came. Feel confident will not slip up if fellow (resentful of this fact) Slytherins should pose awkward questions. Am low-profile, as is prudent when one is twenty years in past, chatting up one's best friend's parents and trying to plant subconscious ideas in one's attempted murderers' minds to turn to light._

_Back to prefects. _

_Lily is Head Girl, and also has own dormitories. Seemed wary at first, self being pureblooded Slytherin (oh, the effort it takes to muster up in mind the stereotype for this particular grouping) but by end of meeting had warmed up and offered help if needed finding way around castle. _

_Side note: will everyone find it believable that, after approx. 16 hours here, know complete way around entire castle, including secret passageways, trick stairs, and such? May have to fake losing way, or at least fall through trick stair once or twice, to hide that home, had benefit of magical map that tells such things at all times throughout entirety of Hogwarts. _

_Another side note: will have to force self to remember not to quote Hogwarts: A History quite so much. _

_Back to Lily. Take Ginny's hair, Harry's eyes, my love for rules, Prof. D.'s understanding; this is accurate description of Lily. _

_Then, **Harry's **hair and **Ginny's **eyes, the twins' flair for dramatics, Ron's pigheadedness; James Potter. He's the Head Boy, helplessly in (quite unrequited, for now at least) love with Lily, and the leader of his little group (Marauders) which seems to sort of run Gryffindor._

_Remus is himself, but with good twenty years taken away in stress. My bookishness, a never-ending supply of sarcastic humor, and slightly more expressive and open than 37-year-old-self. _

_Snape. Ha! Surprisingly calm, polite, also sarcastic, and smart. Seemed at ease; expected him to call me know-it-all, but forgot does not know me at all, and, as will not for 13 years, have no reason to worry. Hair still long, but face looks different. Think nose is smaller. Perhaps will be broken in future. _

_In any case, group spent day showing around castle, introducing to teachers, students, ghosts, etc. and being helpful as they could. Was very kind of them, but wanted to investigate courtyard again, as think main purpose is for garden for potions stock, and want to be sure. Library, from quick glance got of it, was very specific to my research, and get feeling that if door isn't kept closed, could raise awkward questions. _

_Think today was good start for year. At least know will not be left quietly in corner, as was first year. Couldn't handle again, not when could be researching somewhere else. Year here really is sort of pointless; just need year to research Horcruxes, without losing own time, and thought year with the original Order members would be good for me. _

* * *

"This memory is dragging on forever," Tonks groaned. "There is no importance to today." 

"Hermione mentioned that a lot of seemingly mundane things would be gone over," Luna nodded at Tonks as she changed her hair to an impatient, bright red. "Just so we get a feel of her year here, to get a base of why everything else happened."

"Why do I get the feeling you already _know_ both what _everything else_ is and _why_ it bloody happened?"

Luna smiled faintly, not answering.

The three now were strewn across the ground of the Transfiguration classroom, wincing at the uncomfortable seating on the cold, stone floors. But, as it was, there were no empty seats in the classroom, and they settled for watching Hermione passively from the ground.

Although it was of Hermione's nature to take extensive notes and not falter from her schoolwork, _**Danielle **_found her attention wandering. She had found that, for some reason, in her desk, there were already sheets upon sheets of parchment of notes for each class. The girl had, upon finding them, chuckled faintly, praising Dumbledore for his thoughtfulness.

And so, as it was, Hermione already had the notes for this class set in front of her neatly, in a penmanship she did not recognize. Because of this, she felt almost free to disengage, and had taken to looking around the classroom at her fellow Slytherins.

The students sat at tables, three to each. To her right was the seventeen year old Severus Snape, scribbling down notes in writing that had become familiar to her after a year of scowling at in the half-blood Prince's potions book. To her left was Narcissa Black, Draco Malfoy's future mother, calmly jotting down a main point every now and then, but otherwise taking to staring off out the window. Hermione somehow did not look uncomfortable between the two; in fact, by then, as Ginny, Tonks and Luna had seen, she was nearly friendly with them, Severus more so than Narcissa.

A loud crash from the opposite side of the classroom caught everyone's attention as James Potter, for some inexplicable reason, had fallen off his chair- not only tossing his over in the process, but knocking Peter Pettigrew off _his_ chair and causing _his_ to fall, too.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, pursing lips tightly. "Is there a rather-"

Hermione was not paying attention to McGonagall's scolding of James for being clumsy and stupid. Instead, her eyes were trained on Sirius' wand, which pointed around his back towards Hermione's table. A dart of light blue light headed for her table, and Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering a quick _protego_ before it could reach them. The spell safely deflected elsewhere, and Sirius' distraction was lost as James was assigned a detention for disrupting class.

Throughout this, Remus had been sitting with his nose in the Transfiguration book, ignoring his surroundings. Hermione saw that he must have heard Sirius say the hex, because his eyes flicked up to Hermione now, somber, apologetic and tired. She understood. Remus did not condone it. A second passed and Remus' blinked embarrassedly, looking away. She was about to return to her notes, passing over this event, when Sirius' chair suddenly toppled over, sending the boy to the ground. He looked confused and shocked, and Hermione understood that _this _was no distraction. A smirk fought over her face as she saw Remus resettle his wand under his sleeve, and she turned back to her own table, satisfied.

When she glanced back down at her desk, she was surprised to find a neatly torn piece of parchment sitting in the corner, seeming very conspicuous. Immediately, with a glance of fear tossed McGonagall's way, Hermione slid it over to her, hiding it behind her books, eyes darting down to read the familiar script there.

_What did you do to Potter and Black? Other than the obvious, being in Slytherin, I mean. _

Hermione looked slightly dizzy; her potions teacher was writing her notes in class. She spared a glance at him, only to find that he was intent on his notes. The only way Hermione knew the note was indeed from him was from years of seeing his handwriting marking the grades on her papers. Of course, from Ginny Tonks and Luna's angle, it was easier to see the small smirk on Severus' features, as well as a chunk of his parchment missing.

_I befriended Remus Lupin and Lily Evans_, Hermione jotted down, feeling a little uncertain that her classmate would not jump up, whirl around, and give her a detention._ Though I'm not sure why that's reason enough._

With a swish of her wand, Hermione sent the note dancing over to Severus, where it settled next to his hand. He casually flicked his wrist, a nearly invisible movement, and the note was palmed, turned towards his eyes. Upon reading it, his smirk gave way to an amused grin.

_It would make much more sense to you if you'd been here all seven years. It explains why they tried to slip that potion in your pumpkin juice this morning._

Hermione looked up, alarmed, to meet the amused eyes of Severus, who had abandoned the façade (for McGonagall's inspection, of course) of not paying attention to her.

"Potion?" She mouthed, eyes wide in shock. It had been apparent after a few days of school that James and Sirius had a problem with her, but trying to poison her?

He merely nodded, then, pausing, pointed his wand at the note still in Hermione's hand, brow furrowed as he concentrated. As he did so, new writing appeared on the parchment, slightly more shaky and less refined than his physical handwriting.

_If you had taken it, it would have given you boils. _

_Why in Merlin's name would they want to do that? _

_Potter thinks you'll corrupt Lily, and Black doesn't want some Slytherin girl hanging around Lupin._

Hermione frowned at this and glanced back up at Severus. The question in her eyes was clear, and Severus' grin grew wider, something that Hermione had never before thought was something she would ever witness.

_I understand James not wanting Lily corrupted, since he worships her so much. But is Sirius usually so protective of his friends? _

A small laugh escaped Severus now, and three of the four witches from the future were shocked. Luna alone remained composed, while Ginny, Tonks and Hermione blinked in surprise, straightening up where they sat. Hermione smiled in spite of herself- it was so… _nice_, she supposed was the word, to hear someone she had always seen so cynical and negative _laughing_.

_Protective isn't the word. I'm sure you'll understand after awhile, even if Lupin still doesn't._

Hermione glanced back over at the Marauders. Sirius, slouched over the table in a bored manner, was sitting on the outer side of a table with James and Peter. Remus sat at the table behind them, with Lily and another Gryffindor boy that Hermione didn't recognize. Perhaps, if Remus had been sitting in front of them, Hermione wouldn't have noticed it, but as it was, it was painfully obvious. Sirius sat sideways, arm over the back of his chair, and every few moments, would sigh, glancing around, and let his gaze linger on a certain werewolf friend. James would hear the sigh and roll his eyes before nudging Sirius forcefully. Sirius' face would color slightly and he would glance pointedly towards the front, pretending to listen to McGonagall.

_Sirius likes Remus? _Hermione was astounded, not believing it even as she wrote it down to hand back to Severus. She'd known Sirius for quite some time, and it had never occurred to her before.

_You catch on fast for a new girl. But I suppose it's obvious to anyone who isn't Remus._

Tonks' eyes were wide, shocked, nearly mortified, as she read over Hermione's shoulder, having gotten up to see what the two were writing.

"He _what_?" She whispered fiercely, thoroughly confused. "But- I never thought-"

"Well, it's quite logical, actually," Luna supplied. "Have you ever heard of Sirius having a girlfriend?"

"Well, no, but I- he was in Azkaban for so long, so he wouldn't have had the ch- and after, he was in hiding and- and while we were in school, he…" Tonks trailed off, eyes widening again. "I never saw him with anyone, not after his fourth or fifth year."

Reeling from this sudden revelation, Tonks took a seat against the leg of Hermione's table, staring ahead.

"I guess it makes sense," she finally conceded, shaking her head.

_I guess you'll just have to tell me everything, seeing as I'm the poor, clueless new girl._

_Well, of course. I can't just let you stay in the dark, can I? _

_It would be horrid of you to do so, and I might never forgive you._

_In that case, I suppose you'll be seeing a lot of me. There's a lot to teach about the inner workings of the social aspect of this school._

_I do hope you can stand that much of me. People have told me I'm a bit of an insufferable know-it-all._

_Oh, thank Merlin. I thought I was the only one left. _

Hermione bit back a giggle at this- although it was more the irony of her turning his own words against him than his joking- and glanced up at McGonagall, who was writing something on the board and not paying attention.

On the other hand, Ginny's frown was slowly growing deeper and deeper.

"They're… they're…" She shook her head in confusion.

"What?" Tonks asked, tilting her head to look up at the redhead.

"They're… _flirting_." Ginny paused. "I mean, it's not overt or anything, it's just… they're being entirely too friendly for my tastes."

Tonks frowned, slightly put off by this, but didn't say anything.

_The fact you just said that is ironic in so many ways I hope you'll never understand,_ Hermione finally replied, grinning to herself.

_What's **that** supposed to mean? _Severus sent her a confused look, still grinning in spite of it.

_Exactly what I said. It's ironic in several ways, and I hope you never understand why._

_Any way I can get you to clarify? _

_Sure. Might take you a couple decades. _

Ginny's eyes widened. Hermione was being so… so… _careless_! She was purposely _teasing _Snape with the fact that she wasn't from his time! She was being so _unlike_ herself!

Of course, Severus took this literally.

_I have to spend the next twenty or thirty years getting you to clarify that statement? _

_Exactly. _

_I'm flattered, Danielle. Really, if you want me so badly, you only had to say so._

Hermione's smile fell at this; not because Severus was accusing her of liking him, but because of his calling her by what he thought was her name. _Danielle_. It was something she had yet to get used to. But he did not know this, and thought it was because of what he had said; immediately, he glanced back at the teacher, focus once again solely on Transfiguration, smirk gone.

Hermione glanced at him and immediately felt bad; how utterly _insulting_ it must have seemed to him, without his knowing what had really caused her to frown.

_If only I had known- I could have saved all that trouble and still had you. How stupid of me!_

Hermione sent this back over, hoping that it would help whatever bruise she had just placed on his self-esteem. And, of course, as soon as Severus read it, his smirk was back, attention once again taken away from McGonagall's teachings.

Ginny frowned deeply, scoffing.

"_That's_ overt flirting."

* * *

_Friday, Sept. 16, 1977_: 

_Don't know quite how it happened, but am **friends** with young Prof. Snape. _

_Okay, dramatic. **Do** know how it happened. Is my potions partner, sit with him and Narcissa Black in transf., and surprisingly, has good sense of humor. Being fellow Slytherin helped, I suppose, but we get along rather well, and eat together. (I know. Ron and Harry would **kill** me if they only knew.) Am a bit worried; will Prof. Snape (**Prof**. Snape, of **my** time) realize who I am? Would make things awkward._

_Have managed to meet ever-so-famous Marauders. Peter, surprisingly, is very nice boy, if only a bit shy and slow. Remus is also very kind, never takes face out of books (I know. Ironic of self to say so.) and doesn't seem to participate in pranks too often. Or, if does, can't catch at it (suspect the latter). Sirius… er, happy as he is, is not exactly kind of person could see self befriending. Bit full of himself, and harsh on Slytherins. Not even a few days in, had already pulled pranks on Severus (have to call him such, or will slip and call **Prof**.), Narcissa Black (Malfoy's mum!), and Lucius Malfoy (that, am not too teary-eyed over; however normal he seems here, cannot forget Death Eater will become). James, between trying to woo Lily and making spectacle of himself, seems like okay friend, but have seen a few hexes go towards Slytherin table from his area. Very loud and loves attention, that much is obvious. Both James and Sirius hate me, because, as Severus explained to me, am friends with Lily and Remus (cannot- well, sort of can- believe what reasoning he gave me regarding subject)._

_Classes are relatively challenging, as professors and teaching styles are different, but luckily, my library is well-stocked in correct books. Opened desk and found complete notes for all subjects this year (thank gods! Relief! Bless Dumbledore!). Took liberty of reading all course books already anyway. Can hear Ron and Harry groaning at me, rolling eyes and telling self to relax. **Do** miss them terribly. _

* * *

**There. Now you have a bit of a taste of what Hermione's past was like. The next few chapters deal with it quite a bit. Not sure how long I should drag it on, though, because I'm not sure how long I want to make this story. Any ideas?**

**Pleasepleaseplease, review and tell me what you think I could make better, elaborate on more, elaborate on_ less,_ etc. I want to improve it so that in the future you'll actually want to review because you like it that much. Updates could slow down as I have a mountain of standardized tests to get through- I've already done English and Math, but then I have Science MCAS to take, and I think possibly History, too. Then I have finals (six of 'em) to do. So send me even more reviews to cheer me up! **

**Number of reviews: Update day  
One to five:** Tuesday (5th)  
**Six to ten**: Sunday (3rd)  
**Eleven or more**: Friday (1st)


	8. AN

A/N ( I know, illegal).

My chapter was most DEFINITELY missing things. I don't know why. This is a problem. I will fix it in the morning, because I am TIRED (surprising how eating chinese take-out and watching Forrest Gump with old friends does that to you) right now. Til then, hold tight, and sorry! There's not much to fix, but there are short paragraphs missing of Danielle's diary and the letters written back and forth and such. SORRY! FF'S FAULT!!

Irish!!!


	9. Letters Journals Memories and Tea: Redux

-1**I was missing stuff! So here's the new and improved and a few paragraphs longer chapter seven.**

**I also forgot a disclaimer again. Nasty habit of mine. Anyway, no one thinks it's mine, and it's not. DISCLAIMED!**

Also, since the edit thing is the problem, no line breaks. Just a cleverly chosen scramble of letters. I figure if I don't put it through the document editor, it has no chance to lose anything, right?

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"Remus? What are you doing here?"

Ginny looked up in faint surprise at the werewolf, hands suspended in motion as she stirred a boiling pot full of spaghetti.

"Did Hermione bring her pensieve yet?"

"What? No, not yet. Why?"

Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose, sat down heavily at her table, a deep frown marring his features.

"Remus, what's wrong?"

"I- I just… could I have some tea?"

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_Sept. 3, 1977 (day one- not including Sorting, Feast, etc.): _

_Cannot believe. Slytherin! Am Slytherin! Of course, alias **is** pureblooded, but honestly! Why on Earth would I not have been Gryffindor? I **am** a Gryffindor! The gods are **trying** to make this difficult for me! _

_Of course, as seventh-year Slytherin girls' dormitory full, have been given quarters behind painting of Florence the Flighty on Third Floor Corridor. Password is 'tempus'. Bloody clever paintings. Was shock to see Prof. D. alive again. Damned (much missed) twinkle again as he gave me rooms. While have complete library, kitchen, and bath (must remember to thank portrait-Prof. D. when return to own time), rooms are decidedly Slytherin-colored. Have not explored thoroughly yet. D. explained that he already expected me, as D. of my time (or rather, of slightly-before-my-time, as much as it pains me to think so) had somehow notified (would question, but is **Dumbledore** after all, and can only guess how he does what he does). This being the case, D. has decidedly bad sense of humor, letting me be sorted to Slytherin and giving me Slytherin-colored rooms. Thankfully enough, all robes, books, etc. will need for year are in rooms. Again, will not question how D. does what he does, only be very, very grateful. _

_Was near fatal shock when, at feast, glanced to left and happened to see teenaged Prof. Snape. Was slightly more heart-wrenching shock when, not five minutes later, glanced over (somewhat in jealousy) at Gryffindor table, only to see Harry, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. _

_Of course, wasn't really Harry. Was James. But looked **so much** like him that can hardly help calling him Harry. Only without glasses, and, though didn't get chance to look closer, probably with different eyes. Sirius, gods! He looks so unbelievably **happy**! Don't believe that, in all time spent at Grimmauld Place, ever once saw him look so happy as did in that one moment. Would never connect by looking at him with the man I knew, forced to stay in his hated mother's house. Remus looks exactly like might've guessed he did at this age, with no real surprise. Peter looks nothing like the man begging for mercy in Shrieking Shack, third year. Can hardly connect. Still looks like timid little ball of obedience, but seems, at least, **good**. _

_Have not seen much else of school so far. Yet to see Lily. Dreading classes with Slytherins. Feel as if, somehow, by some Slytherin radar, will find out am muggleborn and shun. But have no reason to be afraid. Right? _

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"I would like to say around Christmas, m'boy, or perhaps the New Year."

"December?" Remus repeated, staring up at Dumbledore's portrait. "She visited in _December_?"

"Yes," Albus grinned down at the werewolf. "Is there something wrong, Remus?"

"December? I could have sworn… I thought it was _October_."

"No, no, Remus. I believe it was December, 1999." Dumbledore paused, nodding thoughtfully and added, "though, now that I think of it, I do believe some of the portraits saw her very often in 2000, 2001."

"She visited regularly?" Remus' eyebrows raised in surprise. "I was under the impression that… well, I don't suppose it matters, as my previous impressions now turn out to be terribly, terribly wrong."

Dumbledore smiled sympathetically at Remus, who again pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, and sighed.

"So that means, she left California two months later than I thought, and…" Groaning, Remus buried his face in his hands, muttering to himself, "of all the damn things to be wrong about, of _all the damn things_!"

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_Hermione,_

_Can we meet? Your time and place of choice. Preferably very, very soon._

_Remus_

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_Tonks, _

_Mione's just brought her pensieve over. She said, despite that she knew I would tell you to anyway, that I should tell you to come, because you'd want to know, too. We'll order out from that muggle Thai food place. Come ASAP- don't think I can wait too long with it just sitting here all conspicuously like that. _

_Ginny_

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_Luna, _

_Ginny says Hermione dropped off her pensieve for us. Like to join us for dinner (Thai) and a show? Ginny's, ASAP._

_Tonks_

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_Tonks, Ginny,_

_Sorry am late, but Hermione stopped by with more explanations. Said to refer to it when memories get a bit confusing. Also noted that, since she's not going to be there with us to put the memory in our minds directly, we'll only see, not understand how she felt. I think what I've got should help- I've already seen it (she lost it; I found it- she never knew I had it until recently) and know what it says, but it should help **you**, at least. _

_Says she doesn't want anyone to meet Sara just yet, as isn't quite ready for it, and probably won't be until she's feeling more comfortable with the father knowing. _

_Be there around 6._

_Luna_

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"What is _taking_ that woman so _infernally_ long?" Tonks ground out, shaking her head as she dipped a spring roll in sauce.

"Dunno. It's Luna. Does she ever need a reason?"

"I don't see why she should be taking any longer, if she had the bloody time to write us a letter after Hermione left."

"Well, quite obviously, I had to make sure she had a proper tracking bead on her, and that took quite some time," Luna entered, giving the now red-faced Tonks a grin. "Because of course she's not going to show her face for awhile, and none of us know where she lives, so we'll have to go seek her out ourselves. So I put a charmed bead in her jacket pocket that will tell me where she is."

Tonks coughed embarrassedly, but Luna merely waved it away, setting down a leather-bound notebook on the table next to the pensieve that was already sitting between the two impatient women.

"You two have to learn patience. It's been nearly three years since Sara was born, I'm sure you can wait."

At the looks on both Ginny's and Tonks' faces, Luna laughed.

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He had been many things in his life, but Severus Snape was _not_ a masochist.

This did nothing to explain why, for the third night in a row, he sat paying drunken homage to the obsidian box he had removed, in a state of crumbling willpower, from its rightful place in the mountain prison composed of books in the dusty corner of the library. Normally, he would allow himself no more than an occasional glass of wine, to keep himself sane, or perhaps fire whiskey on particularly trying days. Normally, he avoided _looking _at the arranged pile of books that housed the box, let alone _dismantling_ said pile. He might not do as well with avoiding _thinking _about the box, but he could at least hold on to his sanity by not _touching _it.

But now, the objects inside the box were strewn across his table; letters, pictures, all memorabilia of what he no longer was allowed to discuss. The same, thumb-sized box he had so hastily pulled away from before now sat before him, mocking him in all its seeming innocence.

Severus still did not dare touch it. No; he had used his wand to levitate the insipid _thing_ out of the larger box and to the surface of the glass coffee table he kneeled in front of. Squinting blearily, he swayed a bit, lowering his face to the level of the offending item, glowering at it in challenge.

"Go ahead," he barked at it, "sit there so quietly, so innocently. You don't fool me!"

His house-elf, Callie, had been by a few times to stoke the fire and to make sure Severus didn't become _too_ inebriated, but stayed out of the way other than this. By then, she had learned not to interfere with her master when it came to his box.

"_You_," Severus sneered, a gravelly laugh escaping him, "I know what you want me to do. But I won't! I _promised_." This said in a very self-assured manner, as if he could not imagine someone breaking such a wondrous thing as a promise. "_I will not discuss you_."

No, no. Drunkenly diving through this box of things he was no longer allowed to discuss, challenging items as if they held the essence of the people they were associated with- which one might later suppose, with all the references and shallow reassurances, might have been discussing it in itself- and allowing himself to be _tortured_ by the very sight of the box, to the point where he couldn't stay sober if he wanted to keep his own sanity… Severus Snape was not a masochist at all.

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_Remus,_

_Perhaps you didn't already know, I have given my memories and pensieve to Ginny, Tonks, and Luna, who I suppose plan to devour it like any other late night muggle drama movie. I'm sure all you need to know is there._

_Hermione_

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_No, Mione._

_Remus_

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Hermione sighed at the parchment in her hand, and nodded to herself wearily, scribbling in the blank space below Remus' note.

_If we must. Diagon Alley, 8 o'clock?_

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"But if we look at the memories first, then we already _know_ what happened, and reading will just be-"

"Look, if we read the damn diary first, we'll know how everything happened anyway, and then we'll just have to watch it even though we already know what-"

"But reading the diary after the memories would be pointless and I'd probably fall asleep, and-"

Luna watched Tonks and Ginny bicker with an amused eyebrow raised. The dairy and the pensieve sat on the table, still untouched, as Tonks argued that they should read Danielle's diary first, _then_ look at the memories, and Ginny argued that reading the diary first would render Hermione's memories of her stay in 1977 obsolete.

"Honestly, you two," she clucked, shaking her head. "We'll bring the diary into the memories and read it as we go. Besides, it only affects a year. We have nearly five to go through."

This effectively shut both Tonks and Ginny's mouths, and Luna smiled, eyeing the seemingly innocuous vial that had come with it. Somehow, Hermione had managed to compact the long strand of memories- which, one or a hundred, truly didn't occupy any space- into this vial, eradicating the need to re-bottle each memory as they finished with them and open another. Luna appreciated the woman's thoughtful conciseness.

Feeling satisfied, the blonde witch plucked up the vial and opened it, gently tipping the contents into the basin. She cast a stern look at her friends, a silent warning not to do anything _stupid_, and, taking a tighter hold on the diary, let herself be submerged in Hermione's mind.

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Hermione reeled back in confusion, unable to comprehend, as Professor Dumbledore explained to her that the Sorting Hat's decision was final.

"But Slytherin?" She choked out, eyes wide, standing to pace the Headmaster's office. "Professor, there must be something you can do! I'm muggleborn!"

"Hermione Granger is muggleborn, dear," Dumbledore told her kindly. "Danielle Parker, with the papers you've given me for her, is a pureblood."

Hermione bit her lip, contemplating. She had purposely created a pureblooded alias, hoping to eradicate any prejudice that would make her stay difficult- but to be put in Slytherin...!

"As it is, there are not nearly enough purebloods left to populate Slytherin house, and they do have to let in others that are deemed worthy enough to overlook their heritage."

This of all things made sense to the confused witch, and she sighed.

"Well, thank you, sir." She sighed. "I suppose I'll be fine."

As Hermione passed by the three and headed for the door, Ginny suddenly frowned, turning to Tonks.

"Tonks… didn't you say you knew Hermione when she was here?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Then why in the name of Merlin would you make such a big deal out of whether to read her diary first or watch the memories? For Merlin's sake, you already know what happens!"

"Yes, but it's-"

The memory went gray, and the three women looked around in shock, before their surroundings faded back in, now a set of rooms that the three surmised were Hermione's, as they saw her lounging on the couch, writing in a newer-looking copy of the diary held in Luna's hands. Ginny quickly grabbed the more worn copy from her friend, opening to the first page to read what Hermione wrote; Tonks suddenly shook her head, remembering to finish her sentence.

"-completely different from her point of view."

Ginny rolled her eyes, then continued to scan the first page of the notebook.

"Oh, I always knew there was something about that Florence painting," she beamed, then continued on, "but there's not much in here. It's just Hermione alternately complaining about Slytherin and talking about what a shock it is to see everyone alive and happy."

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"What's the importance of this memory? Hermione's just sitting here."

Hermione set down the notebook with a sigh and stood, further investigating her rooms. Tonks, Ginny and Luna supposed they had to follow.

An average-sized, rectangular room made up the bulk of her quarters; a living room and attached kitchen. The living room was painted in a deep, forest green, with a dark, rich paneling running along the bottom half of the walls. There was a large desk- nearly large enough for Hermione, anyway- and a small bookcase of what could be presumed by Hermione to be 'light reading'. A plush green couch, matching armchair, and a coffee table centered around a good-sized stone fireplace set to the immediate right of the entrance. Beyond that, there was a counter that ran from the front wall halfway to the back, separating the kitchen from the living room.

The kitchen was painted a pale shade of blue, with plain, white counters and a ceramic sink, as well as a refrigerator, which, although it looked muggle, kept food cold by use of charms instead of electricity. Similarly, there was a small stove, microwave, kettle, and other such kitchen items, as well as all the utensils, pots and pans Hermione hoped she would find the time to use.

Wandering back out to the living room, Hermione crossed to the left wall, opening a door here. This led to the library the bookish witch had mentioned in her journal, which was of substantial size and, as noted by the one witch there and the three pretending to be, of substantial quality in regards to books referring to the Dark Arts. There were a few more couches here, and a window that overlooked the lake. The Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin smiled softly before turning and leaving the library to explore the rest of her quarters.

"I get the feeling Hermione wanted us to be very familiar with her rooms," Ginny commented dryly to her friends, raising an eyebrow as they trailed after the seventeen-year-old version of the secretive witch.

Said secretive witch found a large bathroom with a tub sunken in to the ground, much like the prefects' bathroom looked, but on a more private scale, as well as her room, which contained a rather large four-poster bed with a velvety green comforter and a trunk containing all she would need for the year. A door from the kitchen proved to lead to a small, sunny courtyard. It contained a few oddly mismatched flower beds, what appeared to be the beginnings of a vegetable garden, a cherry tree with a stone bench beneath it- which Hermione already knew would be a lovely place to read- and a fountain of water that fell from a gargoyle's mouth into a shallow pond below.

Although she seemed reluctant to leave this place in particular, the out-of-time witch entered back through the kitchen and crossed through the living room back into the library. She lay on one of the couches there, staring over at the painting that took up much of the back wall.

It was of the young four founders in what looked like comfortably used quarters, possibly in Hogwarts itself, each relaxed and intent on their own task. Godric Gryffindor, in sedate maroon robes, sat on a low stool, polishing his sword calmly, while Helga Hufflepuff, wearing purple robes bedecked with yellow stars, sat against the nearby wall, chatting with him as she lovingly fed some small creature a bottle of milk. The two smirked mischievously, sending each other knowing looks, glancing over at their fellow founders every once in awhile as if waiting for something disastrously funny to happen. Salazar Slytherin stood hunched over a cauldron, a look of calm contentment on his face as he added ingredients, hair smoothly tied back at the nape of his neck with a dark blue ribbon, the sleeves of his dark green robes permanently pushed up to his elbows to keep them out of the way. Rowena Ravenclaw, in navy robes of velvet, sat on the windowsill behind him reading a book, side against the window to let the sun press against her, one leg idly dangling from her perch. Occasionally, Salazar would make some quiet remark to her, and she would murmur back, smiling.

Hermione was mesmerized by this, and watched them contentedly for awhile, before a sudden knock at the portrait door jerked her back to life.

Tonks sighed audibly in relief, glad to have something interesting happen.

Hermione opened the door timidly, not having expected anyone to come to her rooms; after all, it was Saturday. Dumbledore had apparently changed the rules between this time and her own; the students arrived on a Friday night, and were given the weekend to spend time with friends they hadn't seen in a few months before being shunted back to class Monday morning.

For this reason, she was not expecting to see Remus Lupin standing outside her door at eleven on the first Saturday morning back to school.

"Hi," he smiled warmly at her, offering his hand. "I'm Remus."  
"Um, hi," Hermione stuttered, shocked at seeing her former professor so young. "Her- Um, Danielle Parker."

"Well, I was just on my way to the first prefect meeting for the year, and Dumbledore said you might like to come, y'know, to get to know some people."

"Oh!" Hermione nodded. "Um, sure. Let me get my shoes."

Remus leaned against the doorway as Hermione ducked down by the couch, where she had apparently shucked her shoes before the memory started.

"He's so… _young_," Tonks murmured, eyes sad as she shook her head.

Ginny glanced over at her sympathetically, knowing the woman would never recover from the effects of Remus' battle with Voldemort's demons, or with his own.

Hermione followed Remus out the portrait hole; Crookshanks darted out at the last second, strutting along beside her.

Similarly, the three grown witches floated around the duo, eager for any snatches of conversation.

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_Sept. 3, again:_

_Have spent Saturday with prefects; of group, Lily, James, Remus, and Snape are immediately known to me. Also, one woman that looks like could be Neville's mum, named Alice. While I wasn't of much use, group introduced itself to me in entirety, attempting to make feel at home and such. Silly people; don't know that am more at home in my quarters than would have been in made up school that came from in Ireland. _

_As I've introduced pretend-self to all of them, think should only be fair do the same here, for posterity's sake. _

_With cosmetic charms, hair is shade of dark blonde, short, straight, and a bit spiky. Eyes are still same old brown, but face is shaped slightly different. Am few inches taller, but other than this, not much different. Family and friends would recognize me, given time and close inspection, but none else. Name is Danielle Jasmine Parker, birth date 18 September 1960 (only changed year to keep simple), parents William and Jane Parker (saw no reason to change their names. Wonder if could contact **my** parents in their younger years. Will contemplate and then decide not to as could change **more** of time stream), no siblings. Personality is irrevocably mine, as cannot stand thought of pretending **all** year to be **completely** different. Background is slightly different; as am pureblooded, had to study certain customs before came. Feel confident will not slip up if fellow (resentful of this fact) Slytherins should pose awkward questions. Am low-profile, as is prudent when one is twenty years in past, chatting up one's best friend's parents and trying to plant subconscious ideas in one's attempted murderers' minds to turn to light._

_Back to prefects. _

_Lily is Head Girl, and also has own dormitories. Seemed wary at first, self being pureblooded Slytherin (oh, the effort it takes to muster up in mind the stereotype for this particular grouping) but by end of meeting had warmed up and offered help if needed finding way around castle. _

_Side note: will everyone find it believable that, after approx. 16 hours here, know complete way around entire castle, including secret passageways, trick stairs, and such? May have to fake losing way, or at least fall through trick stair once or twice, to hide that home, had benefit of magical map that tells such things at all times throughout entirety of Hogwarts. _

_Another side note: will have to force self to remember not to quote Hogwarts: A History quite so much. _

_Back to Lily. Take Ginny's hair, Harry's eyes, my love for rules, Prof. D.'s understanding; this is accurate description of Lily. _

_Then, **Harry's **hair and **Ginny's **eyes, the twins' flair for dramatics, Ron's pigheadedness; James Potter. He's the Head Boy, helplessly in (quite unrequited, for now at least) love with Lily, and the leader of his little group (Marauders) which seems to sort of run Gryffindor._

_Remus is himself, but with good twenty years taken away in stress. My bookishness, a never-ending supply of sarcastic humor, and slightly more expressive and open than 37-year-old-self. _

_Snape. Ha! Surprisingly calm, polite, also sarcastic, and smart. Seemed at ease; expected him to call me know-it-all, but forgot does not know me at all, and, as will not for 13 years, have no reason to worry. Hair still long, but face looks different. Think nose is smaller. Perhaps will be broken in future. _

_In any case, group spent day showing around castle, introducing to teachers, students, ghosts, etc. and being helpful as they could. Was very kind of them, but wanted to investigate courtyard again, as think main purpose is for garden for potions stock, and want to be sure. Library, from quick glance got of it, was very specific to my research, and get feeling that if door isn't kept closed, could raise awkward questions. _

_Think today was good start for year. At least know will not be left quietly in corner, as was first year. Couldn't handle again, not when could be researching somewhere else. Year here really is sort of pointless; just need year to research Horcruxes, without losing own time, and thought year with the original Order members would be good for me. _

_Only regret Harry isn't here to meet his parents. _

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Ginny sighed shakily at this last line of Hermione's second entry, glancing up at the witch as she wrote it.

"This memory is dragging on forever," Tonks groaned. "There is no importance to today."

"Hermione mentioned that a lot of seemingly mundane things would be gone over," Luna nodded at Tonks as she changed her hair to an impatient, bright red. "Just so we get a feel of her year here, to get a base of why everything else happened."

"Why do I get the feeling you already _know_ both what _everything else_ is and _why_ it bloody happened?"

Luna smiled faintly, not answering.

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The three now were strewn across the ground of the Transfiguration classroom, wincing at the uncomfortable seating on the cold, stone floors. But, as it was, there were no empty seats in the classroom, and they settled for watching Hermione passively from the ground.

Although it was of Hermione's nature to take extensive notes and not falter from her schoolwork, _**Danielle**_found her attention wandering. She had found that, for some reason, in her desk, there were already sheets upon sheets of parchment of notes for each class. The girl had, upon finding them, chuckled faintly, praising Dumbledore for his thoughtfulness.

And so, as it was, Hermione already had the notes for this class set in front of her neatly, in a penmanship she did not recognize. Because of this, she felt almost free to disengage, and had taken to looking around the classroom at her fellow Slytherins.

The students sat at tables, three to each. To her right was the seventeen year old Severus Snape, scribbling down notes in writing that had become familiar to her after a year of scowling at in the half-blood Prince's potions book. To her left was Narcissa Black, Draco Malfoy's future mother, calmly jotting down a main point every now and then, but otherwise taking to staring off out the window. Hermione somehow did not look uncomfortable between the two; in fact, by then, as Ginny, Tonks and Luna had seen, she was nearly friendly with them, Severus more so than Narcissa.

A loud crash from the opposite side of the classroom caught everyone's attention as James Potter, for some inexplicable reason, had fallen off his chair- not only tossing his over in the process, but knocking Peter Pettigrew off _his_ chair and causing _his_ to fall, too.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, pursing lips tightly. "Is there a rather-"

Hermione was not paying attention to McGonagall's scolding of James for being clumsy and stupid. Instead, her eyes were trained on Sirius' wand, which pointed around his back towards Hermione's table. A dart of light blue light headed for her table, and Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering a quick _protego_ before it could reach them. The spell safely deflected elsewhere, and Sirius' distraction was lost as James was assigned a detention for disrupting class.

Throughout this, Remus had been sitting with his nose in the Transfiguration book, ignoring his surroundings. Hermione saw that he must have heard Sirius say the hex, because his eyes flicked up to Hermione now, somber, apologetic and tired. She understood. Remus did not condone it. A second passed and Remus' blinked embarrassedly, looking away. She was about to return to her notes, passing over this event, when Sirius' chair suddenly toppled over, sending the boy to the ground. He looked confused and shocked, and Hermione understood that _this _was no distraction. A smirk fought over her face as she saw Remus resettle his wand under his sleeve, and she turned back to her own table, satisfied.

When she glanced back down at her desk, she was surprised to find a neatly torn piece of parchment sitting in the corner, seeming very conspicuous. Immediately, with a glance of fear tossed McGonagall's way, Hermione slid it over to her, hiding it behind her books, eyes darting down to read the familiar script there.

_What did you do to Potter and Black? Other than the obvious, being in Slytherin, I mean. _

Hermione looked slightly dizzy; her potions teacher was writing her notes in class. She spared a glance at him, only to find that he was intent on his notes. The only way Hermione knew the note was indeed from him was from years of seeing his handwriting marking the grades on her papers. Of course, from Ginny Tonks and Luna's angle, it was easier to see the small smirk on Severus' features, as well as a chunk of his parchment missing.

_I befriended Remus Lupin and Lily Evans_, Hermione jotted down, feeling a little uncertain that her classmate would not jump up, whirl around, and give her a detention._ Though I'm not sure why that's reason enough._

With a swish of her wand, Hermione sent the note dancing over to Severus, where it settled next to his hand. He casually flicked his wrist, a nearly invisible movement, and the note was palmed, turned towards his eyes. Upon reading it, his smirk gave way to an amused grin.

_It would make much more sense to you if you'd been here all seven years. It explains why they tried to slip that potion in your pumpkin juice this morning._

Hermione looked up, alarmed, to meet the amused eyes of Severus, who had abandoned the façade (for McGonagall's inspection, of course) of not paying attention to her.

"Potion?" She mouthed, eyes wide in shock. It had been apparent after a few days of school that James and Sirius had a problem with her, but trying to poison her?

He merely nodded, then, pausing, pointed his wand at the note still in Hermione's hand, brow furrowed as he concentrated. As he did so, new writing appeared on the parchment, slightly more shaky and less refined than his physical handwriting.

_If you had taken it, it would have given you boils. _

_Why in Merlin's name would they want to do that? _

_Potter thinks you'll corrupt Lily, and Black doesn't want some Slytherin girl hanging around Lupin._

Hermione frowned at this and glanced back up at Severus. The question in her eyes was clear, and Severus' grin grew wider, something that Hermione had never before thought was something she would ever witness.

_I understand James not wanting Lily corrupted, since he worships her so much. But is Sirius usually so protective of his friends? _

A small laugh escaped Severus now, and three of the four witches from the future were shocked. Luna alone remained composed, while Ginny, Tonks and Hermione blinked in surprise, straightening up where they sat. Hermione smiled in spite of herself- it was so… _nice_, she supposed was the word, to hear someone she had always seen so cynical and negative _laughing_.

_Protective isn't the word. I'm sure you'll understand after awhile, even if Lupin still doesn't._

Hermione glanced back over at the Marauders. Sirius, slouched over the table in a bored manner, was sitting on the outer side of a table with James and Peter. Remus sat at the table behind them, with Lily and another Gryffindor boy that Hermione didn't recognize. Perhaps, if Remus had been sitting in front of them, Hermione wouldn't have noticed it, but as it was, it was painfully obvious. Sirius sat sideways, arm over the back of his chair, and every few moments, would sigh, glancing around, and let his gaze linger on a certain werewolf friend. James would hear the sigh and roll his eyes before nudging Sirius forcefully. Sirius' face would color slightly and he would glance pointedly towards the front, pretending to listen to McGonagall.

_Sirius likes Remus? _Hermione was astounded, not believing it even as she wrote it down to hand back to Severus. She'd known Sirius for quite some time, and it had never occurred to her before.

_You catch on fast for a new girl. But I suppose it's obvious to anyone who isn't Remus._

Tonks' eyes were wide, shocked, nearly mortified, as she read over Hermione's shoulder, having gotten up to see what the two were writing.

"He _what_?" She whispered fiercely, thoroughly confused. "But- I never thought-"

"Well, it's quite logical, actually," Luna supplied. "Have you ever heard of Sirius having a girlfriend?"

"Well, no, but I- he was in Azkaban for so long, so he wouldn't have had the ch- and after, he was in hiding and- and while we were in school, he…" Tonks trailed off, eyes widening again. "I never saw him with anyone, not after his fourth or fifth year."

Reeling from this sudden revelation, Tonks took a seat against the leg of Hermione's table, staring ahead.

"I guess it makes sense," she finally conceded, shaking her head.

_I guess you'll just have to tell me everything, seeing as I'm the poor, clueless new girl._

_Well, of course. I can't just let you stay in the dark, can I? _

_It would be horrid of you to do so, and I might never forgive you._

_In that case, I suppose you'll be seeing a lot of me. There's a lot to teach about the inner workings of the social aspect of this school._

_I do hope you can stand that much of me. People have told me I'm a bit of an insufferable know-it-all._

_Oh, thank Merlin. I thought I was the only one left. _

Hermione bit back a giggle at this- although it was more the irony of her turning his own words against him than his joking- and glanced up at McGonagall, who was writing something on the board and not paying attention.

On the other hand, Ginny's frown was slowly growing deeper and deeper.

"They're… they're…" She shook her head in confusion.

"What?" Tonks asked, tilting her head to look up at the redhead.

"They're… _flirting_." Ginny paused. "I mean, it's not overt or anything, it's just… they're being entirely too friendly for my tastes."

Tonks frowned, slightly put off by this, but didn't say anything.

_The fact you just said that is ironic in so many ways I hope you'll never understand,_ Hermione finally replied, grinning to herself.

_What's **that** supposed to mean? _Severus sent her a confused look, still grinning in spite of it.

_Exactly what I said. It's ironic in several ways, and I hope you never understand why._

_Any way I can get you to clarify? _

_Sure. Might take you a couple decades. _

Ginny's eyes widened. Hermione was being so… so… _careless_! She was purposely _teasing _Snape with the fact that she wasn't from his time! She was being so _unlike_ herself!

Of course, Severus took this literally.

_I have to spend the next twenty or thirty years getting you to clarify that statement? _

_Exactly. _

_I'm flattered, Danielle. Really, if you want me so badly, you only had to say so._

Hermione's smile fell at this; not because Severus was accusing her of liking him, but because of his calling her by what he thought was her name. _Danielle_. It was something she had yet to get used to. But he did not know this, and thought it was because of what he had said; immediately, he glanced back at the teacher, focus once again solely on Transfiguration, smirk gone.

Hermione glanced at him and immediately felt bad; how utterly _insulting_ it must have seemed to him, without his knowing what had really caused her to frown.

_If only I had known- I could have saved all that trouble and still had you. How stupid of me!_

Hermione sent this back over, hoping that it would help whatever bruise she had just placed on his self-esteem. And, of course, as soon as Severus read it, his smirk was back, attention once again taken away from McGonagall's teachings.

Ginny frowned deeply, scoffing.

"_That's_ overt flirting."

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

_Friday, Sept. 16, 1977_:

_Don't know quite how it happened, but am **friends** with young Prof. Snape. _

_Okay, dramatic. **Do** know how it happened. Is my potions partner, sit with him and Narcissa Black in transf., and surprisingly, has good sense of humor. Being fellow Slytherin helped, I suppose, but we get along rather well, and eat together. (I know. Ron and Harry would **kill** me if they only knew.) Am a bit worried; will Prof. Snape (**Prof**. Snape, of **my** time) realize who I am? Would make things awkward._

_Have managed to meet ever-so-famous Marauders. Peter, surprisingly, is very nice boy, if only a bit shy and slow. Remus is also very kind, never takes face out of books (I know. Ironic of self to say so.) and doesn't seem to participate in pranks too often. Or, if does, can't catch at it (suspect the latter). Sirius… er, happy as he is, is not exactly kind of person could see self befriending. Bit full of himself, and harsh on Slytherins. Not even a few days in, had already pulled pranks on Severus (have to call him such, or will slip and call **Prof**.), Narcissa Black (Malfoy's mum!), and Lucius Malfoy (that, am not too teary-eyed over; however normal he seems here, cannot forget Death Eater will become). James, between trying to woo Lily and making spectacle of himself, seems like okay friend, but have seen a few hexes go towards Slytherin table from his area. Very loud and loves attention, that much is obvious. Both James and Sirius hate me, because, as Severus explained to me, am friends with Lily and Remus (cannot- well, sort of can- believe what reasoning he gave me regarding subject)._

_Classes are relatively challenging, as professors and teaching styles are different, but luckily, my library is well-stocked in correct books. Opened desk and found complete notes for all subjects this year (thank gods! Relief! Bless Dumbledore!). Took liberty of reading all course books already anyway. Can hear Ron and Harry groaning at me, rolling eyes and telling self to relax. **Do** miss them terribly. _

_Even though told Dumbledore's portrait that only came back to research Horcruxes, my reasoning was more in the direction of meddling, though illegal. Want to see if can plant seeds for future Death Eaters to switch sides; know that everything do here is already done, but how to know Severus doesn't stay on V's side without someone to tell that he could be good? (Still shocked by D.'s portrait's confession that **told** him to kill him to protect his place in the Order, but suppose D. has reasoning for everything he does.)_

_GHGHGHGHGHGGHGHHGGHHGHGGHHGGH_

Errrm. If you review this one, I'll just add it to the total for reviews for the chapter seven in the real chapter seven slot.

**Number of reviews: Update day  
****One to five:** Tuesday (5th)  
**Six to ten**: Sunday (3rd)  
**Eleven or more**: Friday (1st)

LET'S JUST HOPE THAT WAS ALL OF IT!!


	10. Breakdowns or Breaking Down

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter: **Breakdowns or Breaking Down  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **5304  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters of Harry Potter, and I don't own the White Album. Not even a copy of it. I do, however, have a copy of the Abbey Road album. Quite pretty, but I don't own a record player. Ah, well.

* * *

Once again, apologies about chapter slots 7-9, which are all basically chapter seven. It was aggravating, but here we are at chapter eight! Which isn't so great, because I'm on chapter nine... I'd like some inspiration, please!!

I like this chapter, and now that you're almost completely up to date with me and how the story's developing, I don't have to worry about going back and adding something in that'll mess stuff up! So, yay for that? Erm, anyway, here's your chapter.

* * *

Back in the present, the real version of Hermione Granger took a deep breath, stepping into the Leaky Cauldron nervously. Tom the barman glanced up at her hopefully, but sighed as Hermione's face reddened, partly from embarrassment for him, and partly from suppressed longing. She hurried past the bar to the doorway to back alley, tapped the appropriate bricks on the wall, and entered the magic place.

Diagon Alley was littered with people at this time of the evening, strolling back and forth between the restaurants, bars, and stores, laughing merrily. It was nothing like the calamity the place had been eight years before, when people had refused to go alone, ducking into the diminishing number of stores as fast as they could. Hermione smiled sadly, thinking of Harry's sacrifice, of how he had taken his own life to ensure safety and happiness for everyone but himself.

While Hermione sadly lost herself in thoughts of her best friend, Remus caught sight of her and made his way over, a serious look on his face.

"Hermione," he greeted her, nodding once.

"H-hello, Remus," Hermione jumped back to life, remembering that she had come here for a reason. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Remus admitted, then paused. "Are you hungry?"

Hermione _was _hungry, but thought that, most likely, if she were to have dinner with Remus, it would be a reason to stay longer- and she most certainly did _not_ want to stay long.

"No, not particularly," she lied, before gesturing to a nearby sign for a small café. "Tea?"

"Of course," Remus agreed solemnly, wondering if the witch was suggesting the place because of its convenience, or because she knew that Remus would be in dire need of tea- their standard replacement for worse wares- by the end of the conversation.

He hoped it was the first.

"So," Hermione said cheerily, once they were seated at a table in the corner. "What's up?"

Remus didn't answer, but stared at her, shaking his head slightly.

"You know what's _up_," he finally replied, glancing down into his cup and turning it in his hands. "Please, don't pretend."

Hermione didn't answer, but gazed down into her tea as well, frowning slightly.

"When did I leave America?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione glanced back up, confused.

"When did I leave America? August? September?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Erm. No."

"Earlier?"

"No. It was… I think, but, of course, I could be completely, totally wrong… mid-October…maybe November." She continued on suddenly, voice cheery. "But the weather is just so warm in California, it's hard to tell the difference. It must've been a hundred degrees every day that summer! Thank Merlin I knew some cooling charms, or I would've fried. It was _awful_. I-"

"Stop, Hermione," Remus said wearily, rubbing his face. He found it surprising that he hadn't begun drinking his tea yet, that he didn't find it absolutely necessary at the moment. "After all this time, I think I can recognize when you're trying to detract from a subject."

Hermione fell silent.

* * *

"I have to piss."

"Hush!" Ginny commanded of Tonks, watching the memory intently from her perch on a stool next to the counter.

Hermione, Remus, Lily, Severus, and Narcissa lounged in Hermione's dormitory, books spread out across the coffee table and their laps. It was sometime in October, and the congregation of this particular group to do their homework and study had become a regular occurrence. It had originally been Hermione's idea, and she had not told her fellow Slytherins they would be studying with Gryffindors, nor the other way around. Naturally, it had been tense and awkward at first. But eventually, as Hermione got them to talk, the group had realized there wasn't that much separating them at all, and their meetings were more frequent and less forced.

"What do you think would happen if I pissed here?"

"**Be quiet**!"

Hermione seemed to be slacking on her homework, bolstered by the confidence that her scores would not really matter, as she was not really Danielle Parker, and was not really born yet. While the others added the finishing touches on their Potions essays, checking each other over for mistakes or hints, Hermione stood in the kitchen, twisting the knobs on the small oven and humming to herself.

"It would leave the pensieve, and get all over Ginny's table," Luna responded calmly after some deliberation of Tonks' crude question. "And probably in the Thai leftovers."

"Yes, and I want the rest of that Thai, so don't piss," Ginny huffed. "Now, I'm trying to watch this!"

"It's just a study group," Tonks pouted.

As it was, Hermione had not actually left her kitchen for the duration of the study group, but had been contentedly baking an apple pie. The others didn't question her, but studied patiently while waiting for the treat.

A few weeks earlier, Severus had "shown" her the Room of Requirement, where one could find most interesting things- in fact, the room Malfoy had specified asking for a place to hide his Vanishing Cabinets. There, they had salvaged a record player, as well as a mountain of records, mostly of the Beatles, although Hermione couldn't imagine how or why anyone would bring either to Hogwarts. The two had laughed and brought the contraband back to Hermione's rooms to set up, run now on charms instead of electricity. So, now, as she baked, she hummed along contentedly to _Rocky Raccoon_, glancing up at the group in front of her every once in awhile.

It was odd, even after nearly two months, to think of the group as _friends_, to think of her Potions' professor and the mother of her archenemy as _close_. Remus was not so hard to believe, as she had gotten along with him quite well in her own time. Lily was also easy to detach from the reality of being her best friend's martyred mother, as Hermione had never met the woman before, and it was therefore simple to pretend Lily was any other teenage girl she'd just met at school. But no matter the strong ties she had to each of them, it was hard to process that she could ever call these people her friends, simply because they were not Ron and Harry, they had not known her since she was 11. It seemed almost some betrayal to Harry and Ron to think of this specific group as her best friends.

"You know, it's extremely hard to concentrate when you're baking something that smells that good," Lily remarked, raising an eyebrow at her. "If only for the sakes of our grades, Danielle, _please_, hurry up."

"Twenty minutes," Hermione promised, the use of her fake name no longer even registering in her mind. "I'll even put some cooling charms on it to make it set faster when I take it out."

"As much as I like pie, you should make something different next time," Remus piped up, grinning. "Like chocolate chip cookies. Or brownies. Or fudge. Or… fudge."

"You and chocolate." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I like chocolate," the werewolf responded, looking hurt.

"More so than is natural, Remus," Lily stated, not taking her eyes from the parchment as she wrote.

Narcissa glanced up, smiling a little at the Gryffindors, but didn't say anything. By far, she was still the most shy of the group, having been brought up with the pureblooded propaganda of her family, and thus feeling slightly different from the rest, as the only one to have really experienced this of the five. That wasn't to say that she herself was prejudiced. After seven years of seeing Lily answer every question thrown her way, as well as be one of the most loyal friends and the kindest to everyone that didn't include James Potter, it was hard for her to believe that muggleborns were any less in any way than purebloods.

Soon, the four lounging on the couches and armchairs by the fire were done with their essays, and they migrated to the counter. Ginny, Luna, and Tonks hurriedly hopped out of the way, dashing around the counter to stand by the charmed fridge, while Hermione pulled out the long-awaited pie.

"Gods, I wish we were really here, just for that," Tonks murmured, shaking her head.

After casting a cooling and setting charm, Hermione sliced up the pie, handing it out to her friends, who took it eagerly, taking seats on the stools the three witches-who-weren't-really-there had just been occupying. A calm silence fell over the group as the baked good was shoveled into their mouths, and they broke out into grins.

"So _this_ is why I come every week," Severus said, grinning. "To take advantage of Danielle's baking skills."

"Of course." Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's the best way to get friends, really. Feed them."

Tonks yawned, glancing around.

"Really, guys, nothing important is happening," she told Ginny and Luna. "Can we _please_ just go to the next one? We have _years_ to get through, and we've only gone through _two months_."

Luna patiently flapped a hand at Tonks, telling her to be quiet.

"Merlin," Narcissa sighed happily. "I felt bad at first that our room was full and you had to sleep outside Slytherin's dormitories, but honestly, now I'm just jealous. Where on Earth do you get the ingredients for apple pie, anyway?"

"Dunno," Hermione shrugged. "I think the cabinets are enchanted. They just fill up with whatever I want. Maybe the house elves send it up, like they do with the meals."

Ginny was slightly shocked that Hermione didn't mention something about the horrible conditions said house elves worked in, but then remembered that Hermione was playing the part of a pureblood. She knew better than that.

"Well," Lily sighed, glancing at her watch, "my patrol starts in a few minutes. I have to get going."

"Good luck," quipped Severus dryly. "With Potter, that is."

"Thanks. Need every bit of it," Lily replied cheerily.

She gathered her things and, slinging her bag over her shoulder, slipped out the portrait hole, a resigned look on her face. Hermione grinned, shaking her head.

"What?" Narcissa asked, mirroring Hermione's smile with a smaller one of her own. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Hermione chuckled. "Just… nothing."

Narcissa, Remus, Severus and Hermione returned to the green couches, settling with their pie plates in their laps.

"Y'know, I don't think James hates you anymore, Danielle," Remus said in an off-hand tone. "Think he's accepted Lily's friends with you. I mean, Sirius still gets furious at the sight of you, though I can't imagine why."

Hermione glanced at Severus, grinning; he returned her look with a knowing expression, eyebrow raised.

"I think I can live with Sirius hating me," Hermione grinned. "After all, I'm sure it's for a very good reason."

Severus and Narcissa both let out very un-Slytherin-like snorts trying to suppress their laughter, and Remus only looked confused.

"Speaking of Sirius, I should probably get going," Remus added. "Without James there to entertain him, he might decide that amusement on this particular night somehow includes my schoolbooks, a fire, and marshmallows." At the look on Severus' face, Remus raised his eyebrows. "Don't seem so shocked. It wouldn't be the first time."

Hermione smiled along with the group and bid Remus goodbye, but could feel it fast slipping away. A cold feeling was creeping up like an insidious fog from her toes, reaching up to strangle her, and her breath hitched.

The Sirius she knew, while he lived, would never have decided amusement came in the form of Remus' schoolbooks, a fire, and marshmallows. He was hollow, he was lost to the years he had spent in Azkaban, lost to the life of a fugitive, lost to the house of his dark childhood, just _lost_.

Lily and James, they were going to die in _three years_, to make the ultimate sacrifice, for the life of her one-year-old best friend. Severus was about to become a Death Eater, and would make the mistake that would mark him as doomed to a shallow life of spying and danger, with no true happiness. Narcissa, in the next handful of years, would marry a Death Eater- that is, if she wasn't already betrothed, if her family hadn't already given her up to the Malfoy name- and lose all the warmth and acceptance Hermione had managed to cultivate in her as Danielle. Peter would _betray_ the newlywed James and Lily Potter, willingly hand his best friends over to Voldemort, and let Sirius take the fall. Remus was going to take all of these losses in a short span of time, as well as the constant rejection of the hard life of a werewolf, with no support and no one to turn to.

And there was nothing Hermione could do about it.

If she warned Lily and James of their imminent death, there would be no respite from the terror of Voldemort. He would continue killing, and continue to not be able to be killed.

If she stopped Severus from becoming a Death Eater, he would not give the prophecy to Voldemort, and the Dark wizard would not be led to his own downfall. Nearly as important, the Order of her current time would lose its most treasured spy.

If she did _anything_ to save her friends from the horrible ends they had been fated to meet, she risked making the world she lived in a horror, filled with the corruption, intolerance, violence, and utter control that Voldemort longed to cultivate.

"Danielle?"

She heard Severus' concerned voice, and found that her knuckles were white, clenched deep in the folds of her Slytherin robes, but could not bring herself to respond to the fake name. What did she think she was _doing_ there? Had she thought it would be _relaxing_ to spend the year with a school full of people that had already been martyred, to form emotional ties when she knew how it would all end?

"_Danielle_, _what's wrong_?" Narcissa breathed, concern marring her features.

"Oh, oh, God," Hermione murmured, shaking her head rapidly, eyes welling. "What am I doing? Why? Why did I come here? Oh, God, why?"

"Danielle!"

"It's a stupid idea, such a stupid idea, oh, God, Merlin, Harry was right, such a _stupid idea_…"

Severus and Narcissa sat next to Hermione, shocked looks on their faces as they tried to console the witch. Similarly, Ginny, Tonks, and Luna stood nearby, looking haunted as they witnessed their friend's emotional meltdown.

"Please, forgive me," Hermione whispered, glancing at Severus. "When you realize who I am, please, please, just forgive me."

"Forgive you for what, Danielle?" Severus asked slowly. "What's wrong?"

"I've- oh, God, I'm going to ruin everything, and nothing is going to be the same when I get back, it's not even going to exist, Harry will have no chance now, I'll have only _helped_ kill him, oh, _God_, what have I done?"

"Severus, do you think we should go get help?"

"No, Cissa," he replied darkly. "Go back to the dormitories."

"But-"

"Go."

The command in his voice was evident, and the blonde girl meekly stood, packing up her things, before casting Hermione a sympathetic, worried glance and slipping quietly out the portrait door.

"Danielle," Severus asked, ducking so that his eyes were level with hers, "what is wrong?"

"So, so many things," Hermione breathed, ducking her head.

The perplexed Slytherin sat back in the couch, brow creased in confusion, and he regarded 'Danielle' warily.

"When I figure out who you are, you want me to forgive you?" He finally repeated, tilting his head in a suspicious way.

Hermione's eyes widened in her hysterical state, and she clapped her hands over her traitorous mouth.

"OhGodohshitohshitohbuggeritalloh_shit_," she muttered, "ruining everything, can't even keep my mouth shut, blabbering like an idiot because I never knew that stupid dog like he is now, oh, God, what am I even saying…"

Ginny and Tonks exchanged worried, shocked glances at how Hermione was acting, putting herself in grave danger by talking at all. Luna merely stood by calmly, watching the scene carefully, but without surprise.

Suddenly, Hermione whipped out her wand, turning it on herself. Severus' eyes widened, and he made to grab it out of her hand, but was too late.

"_Silencio_!"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, before letting out a silent sigh of relief, mouthing words rapidly. Severus supposed this was some sort of cathartic act, but couldn't be sure, and only stared at her uneasily, before shaking his head at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

"_Finite incantatem_."

"-and I'm _friends_ with the betray-" Hermione's eyes widened and she clamped her mouth shut before glaring at Severus. "What was that for?"

"Danielle, you're acting extremely odd, and I want to know what's going on."

"I- I can't tell you," she replied, raising her chin in defiance. "Merlin knows what would happen if I did."

"Oh, so it's Merlin again, and not God?" He raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

Her face turned a shade of red that would have made Ron proud, and she let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm going to have to ask you to forget everything I've blurted out tonight," she said evenly, composure regained as her adrenaline spiked. "No questions asked."

"Is this another one of those things I'm going to have to wait twenty years to figure out?" Severus grinned wryly, attempting humor.

"I… yes."

"Well, then," he responded, carefully composing his features to appear cool and calm. "In that case, I suppose you're going to be seeing a lot of me for the next twenty years."

* * *

"Danielle! Come on!" Narcissa's laugh cut through the noise in Hermione's rooms, calling through her bedroom door. "You said you'd be out ten minutes ago!"

"In a minute!" Hermione hollered back, muffled through the heavy wooden door that separated her from her friends.

It was the night of Halloween. Severus, Narcissa, two of their Slytherin friends, Lily, one of her friends, Remus, Peter, James, and a still-somewhat-reluctant Sirius were crowded into Hermione's dormitory. Although 'Danielle' had managed to break _some _of the barriers between the two rival groups, the Gryffindors and Slytherins still kept mostly to themselves. This, of course, barring Severus, Narcissa, Remus and Lily, who stood at the middle of the room, conversing freely while they waited for Hermione to come out.

The entire group was in a wide range of Halloween costumes, which somehow helped to dissipate some of the tension between the enemy groups. Remus had dressed up- practically on James and Sirius' orders, and much to their amusement- as the Big Bad Wolf, while Lily had decided to play the part of Red Riding Hood. James and Sirius were pirates, complete with the tight black pants, baggy white shirts, swords, and other paraphernalia, as well as long, dreadlocked hair. Peter had, for some reason, come dressed as a block of cheese. Agatha, Lily's friend, was someone or other from the 18th century, in a corset and full skirted dress, curled hair covered by a strange-looking bonnet. Severus, Narcissa, Dorian, and Emmett- their Slytherin friends- had come as the Beatles (Narcissa was George, and seemed very comfortable in this guise, despite all her very upright upbringing).

"Come _on_, Danielle!" Severus- or John Lennon, as he was dressed- pounded on the door good-naturedly. "We're not going to wait forever!"

"Alright, _fine_," Hermione huffed, and the door clicked open.

She slipped out, dressed in an olive green toga that fell in folds to the ground, with a long slit up the right side, held in place by a silver snake brooch (and a few sticking charms) where the toga crossed her right collar bone. Her hair was now once again long, thick, and curled- and, though still blonde, a slightly richer tone- and held back by leather strips that had been threaded across the crown of her head. Her make-up was done in golds and greens with a rich, dark lipstick and rather dramatic eyeliner that would seem unusual to anyone who had known the witch before she had come here. A strip of pale silver cloth was tied in a simple knot around the top of her arm, the loose ends hanging to her elbows, so that, paired with her toga, both of her current house colors were represented.

"_Finally_," Remus declared, sounding exasperated. "Shall we go?"

Hermione suppressed a laugh at his costume, knowing full well that she, as Danielle, knew nothing about Remus' lycanthropy and therefore would not understand why Remus' costume was so funny. She merely rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't _that_ long," she pouted. "And it takes a lot of work to grow _and _tame this much hair."

Agatha nodded sympathetically, also having had to grow her hair to her waist for her costume; everyone else rolled their eyes, shifting in the direction of the door.

"Aww," Tonks cooed. "Mione looks pretty."

Ginny rolled her eyes and moved to stand near the door with Luna so that the witches could slip out just before the group, preventing themselves from being left behind and lost in the gray areas that were outside the reach of the memory.

Hermione cast a quick protection charm on her bare feet and, slipping her wand into a slim pocket hidden in the folds of her toga, inserted herself between the Beatles and Red Riding Hood. The group shuffled out the door, and headed, for the first time, Slytherin and Gryffindor, to the ball, together.

* * *

"Has she forgotten all about Ron?" Ginny wondered aloud, frowning heavily, watching as Hermione danced with Severus. "And that that's _Snape_?"

"To be fair, Ginny, she's danced with all of them, which kind of strips it of the whole couples aspect," Tonks replied, then pulled out the diary. "I'm sure she mentions him. She must miss him madly."

* * *

_October 31 1977:_

_Dear God, Merlin, Circe, Aphrodite, Zeus, Venus, Mars, Einstein, and Batman._

_And Isaac Newton. And perhaps Walt Disney, for good measure. _

* * *

"See, Ginny? 'It's been too long since I've seen Ron.' 'Two months is entirely too long and I need to see him right now.'"

Ginny let out a small sigh of relief. Luna raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, glancing between Hermione and Ginny every few seconds. There was a pause.

"That is, not to say, of course, that Ron deserved Hermione anyway. He would really have deserved it if she had cheated on him."

Tonks rolled her eyes, glancing at the silent blonde witch next to her, who offered a vague grin in return.

Silently now, hiding it from the Weasley girl whose eyes were now raking the room in interest, Tonks continued reading the entry.

* * *

_What am I **doing**! Honestly, this is beyond twisted, in so many ways that are impossible to describe. I shouldn't be here! I shouldn't be with these people! I'm only hurting everything, **including** myself! Three of those people- my friends, my **close** friends, from both here and home- are going to **die** over the span of the next two decades. And **all **of those deaths are so **easily** preventable, and **I can't do anything about it**. I can't warn them. I can't tell Severus and Peter not to become Death Eaters, I can't tell James and Lily not to let Peter become the Secret Keeper, I can't tell Sirius not to go to the Department of Mysteries in my fifth year, I can't tell Narcissa not to marry Malfoy so she won't birth the very spawn of evil that forced Severus to **kill **Dumbledore. Furthermore, I can't warn Dumbledore that he is going to be killed- well, perhaps I could, but Merlin knows he wouldn't do anything about it! I can't tell Lily that she might as well give up on ignoring James, as she's going to be married to him within a year and a half, and I can't tell her or James that their one-year-old son is going to bring about the downfall of Voldemort. I can't do **anything** to change **anyone** in this time for the better, I can't **save anything**. _

_So **why on Earth** am I here, forming close ties with **all **of them, allowing myself to see them as they are now, relatively good, relatively **innocent**? The **only one that will stay good, stay unharmed, is Remus, and he has to deal with all of their deaths. **Why am I here? Why am I letting myself get attached?_

* * *

Tonks glanced up from the diary, a queasy look on her face, and snapped it shut, muttering a heavy, "that's quite enough of that."

Luna glanced at the metamorphmagus, shrugging and grinning slightly as Luna saw that Tonks had read the rest of the entry.

"You, erm, might want to show that to Ginny," she suggested. "So she's not entirely shocked."

"Shocked?"

"Yes, shocked."

"By what?"

"Are they having a _moment_?" Ginny exclaimed, standing to stalk over to Hermione and Severus. "If they're having a moment, I swear I'll be sick."

Hermione and Severus had stopped dancing and were standing together, conversing quietly as they sipped their punch.

"They're not having a _moment_," Tonks said, exasperated, holding the redhead back. "They're _talking_. People _do that _sometimes."

"No, I think they're having a moment," Ginny snapped, wrenching her arm out of Tonks' grasp. "And I'm going to go, hopefully, prove myself wrong."

Tonks and Luna stood and followed Ginny wearily, intrigued despite their exasperation to see what had gotten Hermione so eager to see her boyfriend.

* * *

"Potions, Ginny," Tonks grumbled, rolling her eyes as they pulled themselves out of the memory for a break and back into Ginny's kitchen. "They were talking about potions. That hardly qualifies as any moment-making conversation."

"It was metaphorical," Ginny said assuredly as she straightened her clothes, plopping into the nearest chair. Immediately, the redhead reopened the thankfully clean Thai food, chewing it down with a determined scowl on her face.

"What, the talk about using pewter cauldrons versus cast iron, or how light exposure affects ingredients?"

"Oh, fine, ridicule me." The fiery-tempered woman rolled her eyes. "You'll see."

Luna snorted, shaking her head at Ginny.

* * *

"So that _is_ when you went back to Hogwarts, is it not?" Remus said shrewdly.

"Well- yes," Hermione answered tiredly. "I spent Christmas until the twenty-ninth in the castle."

"And _no one_ knew?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. "No one at all?"

Hermione's face reddened, and she took a sip of her tea.

"I guess there's my answer." Remus sat back in his seat, a frown now etched onto his young face, mulling over the events of the past with his third cup of tea.

Sighing, the witch before him traced idle patterns on the table, chewing her lip and keeping her head ducked.

"You know, it didn't occur to me until after we got off the elevator what exactly you being Danielle entailed."

At this, Hermione's head snapped back up, eyes wide.

"What… what do you mean by that?"

"Just that you certainly kept interesting company for not only a Gryffindor- well, you _yourself_ being a Gryffindor, not Danielle- but someone who knew that three of her good friends were Dark. Particularly your friendship with Severus." Remus affixed her with a calculating stare, then continued. "Considering that, in your mind, he had killed Dumbledore only a few months prior."

"We knew that he had been forced to do that," Hermione dismissed. "He made the Unbreakable Vow, and Dumbledore couldn't afford for us to lose our spy in Voldemort's ranks. We know he didn't really want to kill Dumbledore."

"You're getting better and better at detracting from a subject as time goes on," the werewolf noted idly.

"All I'm saying is that Severus was not to blame," she shrugged. "Now if we must, let's get back on the subject of my interesting choice of friends."

Remus took a lazy sip of his tea, eyeing her somewhat in an aggravated amusement as she took a deep breath and began speaking.

"My objective in the past was, despite all of its legal technicalities, to meddle as much as I could. How was one to know that, without a push in the right direction, Severus would have ever made it back to the Light? And how was one to know that I wasn't that person that had done it? So I thought that if I could just plant ideas in his mind that the Light was where he belonged, later, it would help him to switch sides. But I also knew that everything that happened already _had_ happened, so I couldn't change all too much- for example, Lily, James, Peter and Sirius. Merlin, there were so many times I wanted to tell them, but I knew I couldn't, because time had already happened where I was from, and it was Lily and James' fate to die protecting their son. I wanted to stop Peter so many times, but Dumbledore explained to me, despite how angry I was about it, that if Lily and James _hadn't_ died, Harry would not have defeated Voldemort, and the world we lived in would be filled with terror and pain. As much as it killed me to think of it this way, I knew that they were dying for the best cause there was, and I just couldn't say anything."

Remus let out a long, weary sigh, thinking of his friends heavily, and shook his head.

"Doing it again," he shook his head at her.

Hermione's shoulders slumped.

* * *

"Okay," Ginny said brusquely, laying her palms on her kitchen table as she glanced harshly at the two women facing her from the other side. "What have we learned so far?"

"That it took us two hours to see about three of the approximately sixty months we have to go through?" Tonks raised an eyebrow. "I honestly just think it would be so much easier if she would tell us everything."

"Well obviously she can't explain too well on her own," Luna said. "It's better that we just see everything for ourselves."

"See?" Tonks wrinkled her nose. "You don't think we're going to _see_ the father impreg-"

Luna silenced her with a harsh look before turning back to Ginny.

"Well, now you've learned that she was good friends with Remus and Severus in their seventh year."

"Now _I've _learned? Because you… _already_… learned?"

"You also know that Hermione had access to rooms in Hogwarts that not many people knew about. Furthermore-"

Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes, and cast her eyes towards the clock.

"Yeah, yeah, okay, thanks Luna," she interrupted, cutting the blonde off. "Tonks, go to the bathroom like you've been complaining about for the past hour, and then we'll just go back."

* * *

**Hmm. Not too happy with how it ended. But that's where it does end, and this is where you review. Correct?**

**I have lots of testing this/next week, so I'm not sure when next update will be. School gets out the 11th (well, 12th, but we don't have to go to the last day unless we missed a final) so after that I will be free. Update will be within two weeks, but no less than one. **

**Please review and tell me what you thought of it!**


	11. Negative Progress

**Title: **Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Negative Progress  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **4556  
**Genre: **Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine!!!

* * *

Oh, do guess what happened. SOMEHOW, in editing, I noticed four days later that my first paragraph had gone on vacation- meaning that there was no explanation for the first scene and it was probably kind of confusing, even if you figured it out. Not sure if anything else was lost, but here's that first paragraph.

* * *

When Ginny, Tonks and Luna returned to Hermione's memory, they found themselves in an unfamiliar room, cavernous and filled with row after row of junk. While Luna calmly glanced around for sight of Hermione, who it was assumed had summoned the Room of Requirement, Ginny and Tonks began examining the odd objects they were surrounded by. Broken broomsticks, heaps of abandoned clothes, jewelry draped over rolls of used parchment, vases- whole or otherwise- bird cages, silverware, an empty keg of butterbeer, boxes of chocolate, melted cauldrons- all strewn about in half-formed rows and piles, organized, in an odd way. Ginny poked at an assortment of neon wigs, and as she straightened back up, noticed a costume of a block of cheese discarded in the corner. She grinned. 

"Found her," Luna called, voice echoing from behind a row.

Ginny and Tonks followed the blonde to a corner of the room, where Hermione was waving her wand energetically, clearing a space around an old, beat up desk. A look of concentration on her face, she summoned a lurid, bright pink lamp in the shape of a heart, and set it on top. Following this was a sculpture made of bottle caps, a neon boa, and the hand of a mannequin holding a multi-colored slinky that emitted odd noises as it rattled around, settling from the movement.

Sighing in satisfaction at the odd shrine she'd created, Hermione opened her satchel and slipped out her notebook. A quick flick of the wand, and Hermione held a hot pink rubber dog bone.

"And you say you had her journal?" Tonks asked of Luna.

"Yes," Luna nodded serenely, "I found it."

"Here." Tonks gestured around at the room, eyes raking the piles of dilapidated and discarded belongings.

"Yes."

"…In the shape of a dog bone."

"Yes." A look of confusion crossed Luna's face. "Why do you ask?"

Rolling her eyes in exasperated wonder at the strange woman, Tonks turned back to Hermione, who now set the journal-turned-dog-toy on the desk. She waited a few seconds, then, hesitantly, reached out and picked it up again. Immediately, it turned back into her journal, and she smiled in satisfaction before placing it back on the desk and transfiguring it once more.

Not two seconds later, the door to the Room of Requirement opened. In came Remus, closely tailed by Sirius, with James and Peter at a slightly more average distance from the werewolf than their "overprotective" friend.

"Hi, Dani," Remus smiled brightly.

"Hey, Remus," she responded, eyes widening. "How'd you get in here? I thought I…. well, never mind."

Sirius shifted around Remus, coming to stand a bit in front of him, as if shielding him from the Slytherin girl. A small smirk appeared on her features, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, hello, Sirius," she said cheerfully, "James, Peter."

"Hi, Danielle," Peter chirped in a friendly tone, barely covering James' grumbled greeting.

Sirius didn't answer, but squinted at her, crossing his arms and shifting his weight in an almost comical manner that brought him closer to Remus. Hermione's smirk grew wider.

"Well, nice seeing you," Hermione shrugged, beginning to slowly make her way towards the door. "See you around, Remus."

She couldn't hide her smirk as she said these last words in a smooth, confident tone, letting her hand brush slowly across Remus' arm, giving him a meaningful glance as she walked out. Remus looked uneasy; Sirius, face going red, adopted a furious expression. As Ginny, Tonks, and Luna slipped out of the door ahead of her, Hermione bit back a laugh, letting the door swing shut behind her.

The last thought that registered in the minds of Ginny and Tonks before the memory faded away was of how undeniably _Slytherin_ that had been.

* * *

"You're not going home for Christmas?" Hermione asked in surprise, glancing up from the cauldron momentarily. 

"And deny myself the opportunity to find that elusive journal of yours?" Severus smirked, adding in the mandrake root and checking to make sure the potion turned the right shade of maroon before glancing back up. "Don't think you can hide it from me forever, Danielle. I will find it again."

Hermione's extensive measures taken to hide the journal now clicked in the minds of Ginny and Tonks. Luna, of course, had already read the whole thing, and already knew.

Although they had not seen this, Severus had become increasingly intrigued by what Danielle was always scribbling about. Eventually, during one study group a few weeks previous to this memory, he found the opportunity to sneak off and find her journal, stuffed in a corner of her desk. Unfortunately for him, she had chosen this precise moment to turn the corner from the kitchen to the living room, turn a pretty succession of purple, white, and green, and _accio_ it back to her before he could read past the date. However, the words "alias" and "alive again" seemed to jump out at him from the page, and ever since, he had been on the constant look-out for the incriminating book.

"Oh, I doubt that," Hermione replied. "You can try all you like, but you simply can't find it."

"Is that a challenge?" He retorted, not even pausing as he stirred the contents of the cauldron between them.

"Could be." Hermione shrugged in an offhand way.

"And what do I get if I win?"

Enter the very Slytherin smirk that was fast becoming familiar on Hermione.

"Use your _imagination_."

By this point, Ginny was used to their flirting, and came to see it as the joke between friends it was.

Severus chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he dropped his eyes to the ingredient he was currently crushing. The corner of his potions text peeked out from his bag, and Hermione vividly remembered the feeling of unease it had given her in the future.

If she had realized she had just referred to her own past as the _future_, the witch might have realized she was becoming a bit too comfortable as Danielle Parker.

"My _prize_ aside, I'm staying because I have a bit of a _project_ I wanted to work on." His voice dropped conspiratorially, and he leaned forward, though there was no one to hear them over the splashing sounds of boiling cauldrons and chatting students. "Want in?"

"Of course."

The swiftness with which she answered surprised the friends observing her- where was the reprimanding, strict Hermione they knew? Was she even going to ask what the project _was_?

"I'll assume you have some target in mind?" Hermione continued, unaware of the three witches from her future that observed her from various positions around her table.

He smiled wickedly, and allowed his eyes to dart over to the Gryffindor side of the classroom, where Sirius sat on the edge of his seat, leaning over Remus' shoulder to read his notes. Hermione's smile grew.

"Now I'm intrigued," she said in a low voice. "Tell me more."

"Well, I noticed you have some very interesting things growing in that garden of yours," Severus said casually. "And I know where I could get my hands on some boomslang skin, and perhaps some lacewing flies, as well. Now, if only we had somewhere, say, someone's quarters that a very select number of people have access to, I'm sure we could find something interesting to do."

"Why, Severus, how could we do anything more enthralling than what we _usually _do in my quarters which a very select number of people have access to?"

Alright, Ginny grimaced, she took it back. She was decidedly _not _used to it.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, refraining from responding.

"Alright, you want to make a Polyjuice potion," Hermione relented, rolling her eyes. "Who are we going to be?"

"Well, I haven't quite worked out the specifics of it yet," he admitted. "But the point is to get the mutt to admit to his particular… tastes."

To her credit, Hermione was not entirely Slytherin, despite her smirks and increasing fondness for being sneaky. She _did _feel badly for agreeing to participate in the most-likely humiliating outing of Sirius, which would probably also end up embarrassing Remus. So, using the Slytherin she _had _absorbed by that December, she calmly steered the idea elsewhere.

"Even better idea," she grinned forcedly. "Slip _him_ the potion."

Severus' eyes widened before he broke into a smile.

"_Brilliant_," he whispered. "Who shall we make him?"

Hermione considered this for a moment, setting down the ingredients she had been about to add to their potion as she stared off in contemplation. Not missing a beat, Severus took the valerian root from her hand and went on to dice it up.

"McGonagall," she finally stated.

"How does that make him admit anything?"

"Coming out wouldn't get him in trouble. And he'll have to do it himself eventually. If he was McGonagall, it would be much more interesting."

"Well, how are we going to get a piece of her hair?"

"We'll work something out," Hermione promised.

When he turned his attention back to the potion, Hermione allowed herself a look of relief. Sirius might have been generally spiteful to her, but she couldn't help but remember him as the Sirius that had spent so long trapped in the house he hated; _that _Sirius did not deserve anything quite so scarring as being shoved out of the closet, especially to the very straight object of his affections.

* * *

Of course, not all of Hermione's time in the past was spent on pranks and slacking off on homework. 

Remus, Peter, and Narcissa had all gone to their separate homes. This left Lily and Severus to sustain Hermione's company for the vacation, which she didn't particularly mind. It was a bit closer to how it had been the past six years to spend her time in the company of two friends- rather than have Remus, Lily, Severus, Narcissa, and Peter stuffed into her quarters, as well as Sirius (who had taken to coming and watching how she interacted with Remus) and James (who had taken to coming for the emotional support of Sirius). Of course, Sirius and James remained at the castle (James, to continue wooing Lily; Sirius, because by that time, he lived with James), but, as Lily didn't spend all her time with Hermione, and Remus was no longer there, their interaction with the Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin was minimal.

So, during this Christmas vacation, Severus set up a cauldron in Hermione's small library. He had wanted to originally set it up in the living room, but she argued that if anyone untrustworthy came to visit, a large, foul-smelling cauldron sitting in the fireplace would be rather conspicuous. Instead, they charmed up a corner of the library to be fireproof, and while Severus worked on the potion, Hermione set down with a small mountain of books, intent on finding as much as she could on the subject of Horcruxes. Not, of course, that Severus knew this is what she was researching; she charmed the covers of each text she picked up to appear to be on some mundane subject, like niffler rearing or how to tend a koi pond.

On the particular day of this memory, Lily had somehow coerced James into coming with her to Hermione's rooms for the day- Hermione suspected that James would go anywhere Lily asked him. To the Slytherin's complete surprise, James greeted her with a weak, but sincere smile. Severus, of course, was already there. The four had adjourned to the library, where they took on their own tasks.

James sat on a footstool, leaning against the paneled wall, waving his wand over a piece of parchment that looked very familiar to Hermione, a look of concentration on his face. Lily sat nearby, sprawled out on the ground, batting a ball back and forth for Crookshanks while she wrote a letter to her parents. She occasionally glanced up at James, muttering something to him with a pronounced smirk on her face that he mirrored. Severus, sleeves pushed up, contentedly brewed his 'headache potion' (James didn't notice the difference, and if Lily did, she certainly didn't mention it) with glances uneasily sent James' way, as if his archenemy might jump up at any second and hex him. Hermione sat on the windowsill, reading a book on the destruction of Horcruxes with a pronounced frown on her face, chewing her lip.

"Alright, Danielle?" Severus asked, glancing back at her. "Honestly, I don't think the wizard participation in World War I is all that worrying."

"Oh, it's plenty worrying," Hermione retorted, and went along with what she supposed he saw on the cover. "The test is next week, and I swear Binns couldn't get this in my head with a hammer. I'll never remember all the dates, and all these names!"

"Sure you will," he rolled his eyes, adjusting the flames below his cauldron. "You know everything."

James nudged Lily with his foot, a smirk on his face, before taking a clean sheet of parchment, scribbling something on it, and handing it to her. A giggle burst out of her, and Tonks raised an eyebrow. It seemed the struggle between them had at last ended.

Ginny frowned in confusion, glancing at the back wall.

"They look kind of like-"

"Oh, look, first snow!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling.

The three people that were present and three that were not glanced at her in surprise. Lily and James hopped to their feet, meandering over to the window to glance out at the flakes slowly drifting to the ground. Severus gave a small smile and blew the flame under the cauldron out before following them, leaning against the wall by Hermione's feet.

"Oh, I should make brownies," Hermione smiled.

"What do brownies have to do with snow?" James asked in confusion.

"Oh." The witch in question's face fell, and she bit her lip. "Well, when I was a little kid, my mother and I would bake brownies for the first snow of the year. It was sort of a tradition."

She said no more on the subject; Lily, James, and Severus gave slightly confused looks, but did not question her. Ginny, Tonks, and Luna exchanged sad glances, knowing that, in Hermione's world, at this point, it had only been about five months since both her parents had been killed, and she still had not given herself time to grieve.

But, as friends will do, Lily, Severus and James understood her need to not discuss this and made their way to the kitchen. Hermione opened the cabinets and they filled with the necessary baking ingredients, as they had been faithfully doing since she had first moved in.

This time, unlike usual, Hermione suggested the three help her, in what the friends of her own time recognized as an attempt to dispel the slight air of loneliness that was evident. Severus then suggested a competition between the four, an idea which was rapidly accepted as one of epic proportions. It was not long before they had begun to make a large mess of the usually pristine kitchen, with each student using their own recipes and methods.

The competition quickly escalated into a war, each friend cheating off the others recipes, attempting to sabotage each other, and flinging insults and ingredients into their respective 'zones'.

It was one shock when James had decided to be nearly friends with 'Danielle' on Lily's behalf; it was another when he called Severus by his own name, treating him as if he were any other student in the school. Hermione had, at first, been worried when they were throwing eggshells and walnuts at each other; but, at the sight of James _laughing_ as he did it, out of a pure, sincere _amusement_ rather than at the fact that he had just hit Severus with a particularly nasty glob of batter, she had become nearly catatonic with shock.

In the end, Lily and Hermione teamed up, using their combined knowledge to bring their competitors down. James, having no cooking experience, created a disaster that vaguely resembled the current contents of Severus' cauldron. Severus, who had a surprising amount of knowledge concerning the kitchen, managed to come in second- his only downfall being the number of broken eggshells that had _somehow_ sneaked into his batter, and the butter that had _somehow_ disappeared from his pan as he went to put it in the oven.

Pleased with their success, the girls took a seat on the floor against the counter; Severus and James sat opposite them, defeated looks on their faces. All four were covered in flour and other bits of brownie ingredients, and all four were content.

* * *

_December 19th, _

_It really feels nice to have friends. This is not to say that haven't had friends since got here: only that now, feel like friendship with them **here** transcends relationships toward them in future. _

_But that's not exactly **good**._

_Keep forgetting Lily is my best friend's mum, that she happens to not live past 1981. Keep forgetting Severus is my professor, who has hated me since my first day, who is a future (then former) Death Eater. Keep forgetting Peter also isn't the innocent, childish boy he seems to be now. That James, when it comes down to it, is going to sacrifice himself for his wife and child. That Narcissa is married to my future would-be murderer, and the mother of **Dumbledore's** would-be murderer. That Sirius is **gone**, or that he was ever any different from the dramatic attention-seeker he is now. Or that Remus… well, Remus is twenty years older than me. _

_Not good, because when let self forget, guard is let down. And if guard is let down, then could let something slip. Could blow my cover. Could destroy everything. _

_Presumably, won't let guard down, won't destroy everything, because in theory, everything's happened. And if changed everything, doubt would be able to be here. Which means wouldn't change anything. Which means would be here. Which means that will have torn apart universe in paradoxical limbo. And, since am not in paradoxical limbo, presumably will not do anything to upset flow of time-space. _

_But am so terrified that still could. _

_Going tomorrow to Hogsmeade to finish Christmas shopping (as if books, cloaks, full course notes, and all supplies weren't enough, found small fortune in trunk). Not getting much, but Harry and Ron would be jealous to know no one got books this year. (Well. Yet, anyway). Already have gifts for Remus, Narcissa and Severus, but wonder what is usual to get 17-year old mother of best friend for Christmas. Or, barring that, what is usual to get 17-year old friend have known for three months for Christmas. Shouldn't be any harder than getting anyone else's, but for some reason, is monstrously more difficult. _

* * *

"Y'know," Lily said casually, lifting a snow globe off a display and examining it, "I didn't think it was possible 'til you got here."

"What wasn't?" Hermione asked, glancing over at her friend.

"Getting the houses to get along, I mean. I've tried for years and it's never worked."

Hermione grinned widely, peering at an expensive-looking quill set displayed in an equally expensive-looking ebony box. She grimaced at the price tag before returning to the conversation.

"Well," she shrugged. "Maybe you just needed someone to infiltrate the ranks. Couldn't do it yourself, and I certainly didn't do it _my_self."

Lily beamed at this, setting the snow globe back down- the snowman inside let out an indignant cry, gliding over to the glass to tap his stick arm at the witch who had decided not to buy him.

The two were currently perusing the contents of a cramped, small store filled with whirring, loud knickknacks ready for Christmas consumption. Hermione had already gotten Lily's present- a book on rare protective spells, as well as a bar of chocolate from Honeyduke's- and was now helping Lily to decide what to get James.

"You know," she suggested, a slight grin taking over her features, "a few years back I got a good friend of mine- James reminds me _loads_ of him, actually- a broomstick servicing kit. Maybe he'd like one of those?"

Lily nodded thoughtfully, then smiled.

"Yeah," she agreed. "That sounds like something Potter would love."

"You should probably stop calling him Potter, Lil."

"I suppose," the redhead grinned, "but old habits die hard."

* * *

Hermione, bundled in thick robes and warming charms, sat with her back to the stone bench in her courtyard, a thick book open in her lap. A lamp was set on the bench to cast light over her shoulder, soft yellow firelight glittering on the fresh snow. The hour was late- or early, rather. Severus was nearby in what Ginny and Tonks had thought was the beginning of a vegetable garden, plucking out the rare potions ingredients- the ingredients whose potency called for being harvested at such a dark, frosted hour. 

They were both silent, and it somehow seemed like it would be wrong to shatter the peace by talking. Instead, they worked calmly at their own tasks, listening to the sounds of the gargoyle gurgling from the wall, wind rustling the branches of the fir trees. Occasionally, the wind would dislodge the relatively dry snow, sending fine sparkling dust swirling down onto Hermione and her book.

Rather than outright tell Severus which plants to pick, Hermione used a nonverbal spell that attracted a couple of snow pixies- which she had discovered quite a family of in a bush- to hover by each ingredient. As soon as Severus picked the plant, the pixies would disband, circle around wildly for a second, then regroup where they were needed next.

Before long, the pixies had been released from their enchantment, and Severus brought the basket of ingredients he had gathered back over to Hermione. She glanced up from the potions book, smiling, and proffered a half-empty bottle of mead from beside her. The Slytherin took it with a grin while she picked through the basket, examining the plants and casting- still nonverbally, of course- numerous protection and preservation charms.

They continued to sit against the bench in silence for some time, wordlessly sipping the mead and pondering to themselves in the cold, before Hermione suddenly spoke, voice strangely watery and weak.

"I miss my parents," she mumbled, and Severus glanced at her in surprise, because she never spoke of them.

"You could go home for Easter," Severus suggested with a shrug. "It's only a few months off."

"No," Hermione chuckled humorlessly. "I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"He killed them," she murmured.

Severus' eyes widened, surprised: Danielle had never mentioned this.

"In July," she half-explained. "He killed them, because I'm friends with the wrong people."

"Who?" Severus asked in a muted, humble tone.

Hermione glanced at him in surprise, as if she had not expected him to ask this.

"Voldemort," she whispered incredulously, as if it had been obvious.

Now shocked, Severus shuffled closer to her, wrapping an arm around her back. She turned to hug him, which he took stiffly- as a Slytherin, it was unusual to show affection (it didn't occur to him that he had initiated the contact). His heavy sigh grazed Hermione's ear, making her shiver. She clutched at his arm and leaned against his side with the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

"Don't go to him, Severus," Hermione whispered. "Don't do it."

And before he could even ask himself how she knew he was being pressured to join, she sat up and pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. At first, he pulled away to stare at the witch in surprise. She seemed acutely embarrassed, face a dark shade of red, and refused to look him in the eye.

"Don't," she murmured despondently. "Don't go to him, don't go, don't leave."

To this, Severus- as well as Ginny and Tonks- was not quite sure how to respond. With a small, shuddering sigh, Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck, eyes shut.

"At least," she murmured, "promise you'll come back."

The two sat silent for quite some time. Finally, Severus looked down at her, a solemn look on his face, and nodded.

"I promise."

Relieved, Hermione threw her arms around his shoulders, meeting his lips with a smile.

* * *

"What the hell?" demanded Ginny, spinning on her heel to tear Hermione's diary out of Luna's hands. "That- that's disgusting. And- and horrid, and Snape, and Ron!" 

"I thought Ron deserved to be cheated on?" Luna input calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"That was half an hour ago! This is now!"

"Actually, this is late December, 1977."

Ginny sent Luna a dark look.

"Luna, Hermione is making out with Snape. Do you not see the dire situation here?"

Luna sighed, playing with a lock of hair idly, wondering what to say.

"Ginny... you can't do anything about it, and there's no point to obsessing about it. He didn't even know Danielle was Hermione until she said so in the elevator, remember?"

Ginny sighed, shaking her head, before letting out a snort of disbelief.

"Snape!" A look of fear flitted across her features, hazel eyes growing wide. "Y'don't think Snape is the father?"

"Euurgh!" Tonks burst in, having kept uncharacteristically quiet until this point. "Gin, please!"

"Luna, is Snape the father?" Ginny rounded on the blonde witch. "You know everything- is... he... it?"

"What I know pertains to the 1967-1968 school year, and Hermione's stay in it," Luna said dismissively. "Everything else is a hunch."

"And your hunch?"

Luna fixed Ginny with an exasperated stare, shaking her head at the redhead.

With a groan, Ginny glanced again at Hermione, who it seemed had now passed out against Severus' side, the bottle of mead finishing its job.

* * *

"Break time," Ginny fumed, pulling out of the memory to collapse back on her kitchen floor. "I can't _believe _her!" 

"What's so unbelievable? You saw it happen with your own eyes."

"Which makes it worse!" The redhead spat at Luna's rationality. "For God's sake, she had Ron!"

"She hadn't _seen_ Ron in _three months_," Luna pointed out. "I'm not sure that counts as _having_ him."

"And three months is the sudden point where it's okay to go make out with your disgusting teacher because you're _sad_?"

Luna rolled her eyes, an amused grin on her face; Tonks merely looked thoughtful.

"I always thought… but, well, they never actually said… but yes, I guess it makes sense…"

Ginny let loose a feral shriek, kicking at the air in front of her uselessly.

"This is an awful amount of frustration on behalf of someone you've sworn to hate," Luna observed calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"You- I- would you _stop_!" The redhead shouted. "Stop with your _psychology _and your logic and your _illogic_ and your _everything_! We bloody _get _it! You _understand _everyone! _You know bloody everything! Stop _trying to _prove _it!"

Startled, Luna's eyebrows raised in surprise, and she leaned back in a subconscious effort to retreat from Ginny's fury, displaced as it was.

There was a sudden silence as Ginny stared at the blonde, shocked at the words she had thrown at her friend, while Tonks, whose hair had shifted to an embarrassed navy, stood by watching.

"Alright," Luna shrugged. "If you wish."

And, with a small _pop_, she was gone.

* * *

Aaaand there! A whole paragraph MORE progressed than the progress we made from LAST version of this chapter. 


	12. Stages of Reconciliation

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Stages of Reconciliation  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count:** 5129  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer: **Not miiiiine. Wish it was, or it would've happened _so _differently.

* * *

Alright! Besides the fact that I'm suddenly captivated by the fact that the font for all the muck above this and the actual chapter appears different to me right now, I'm pretty exicted about this. Chapter ten! Yeah! Again, more progress made here. I've decided that I'm taking things too slowly, and at this rate, it would take another thirty chapters to even get back to the current time- so we're going to be zipping through 1978, and taking 1998-2003 at a slightly more, ah, _progressive_ pace. Anyway, give me some feedback! It's much appreciated. 

Thank you to my reviewers! I never remember to do this, because I usually do this in the morning, before school, but now school's out and I have the time again! So big thanks to: **katmurphy.723, Looly, Hello.I'mMarySue, Clue33369, wasu, F75, wasu... again...?, and ga-4-ever! **Support is much appreciated, and every bit of it makes me more enthusiastic to keep this story going.

If I had a bit more, it would be even better... You can take a hint, can't you?

* * *

Luna slid into a chair at her kitchen table with a sigh. People tended to be so emotionally _draining_. Ginny was mad at her for catching her in the act of caring about her brother, which the blonde understood. It was embarrassing to suddenly be proven a hypocrite. So Luna knew to give her space to cool off. 

But honestly, did the woman have to be quite so difficult?

* * *

Remus was quite sure the world's supply of tea was dramatically shorter than it had been when he and Hermione had first arrived. 

He'd slogged a painful journey through nearly ten cups of the stuff, as well as a continual stock of biscuits (for Hermione) and chocolate (for himself).

"You need to talk to him," Remus sighed heavily, running a hand over his weary face.

"Why on Earth would I?" Hermione replied, affronted. "It's not as if his attitude improved on itself in the past six or seven years."

"You don't think it's important? It's what caused everything else."

"How much did I _tell _you when we weren't sober?" Hermione shook her head in confusion. "Because I don't remember ever speaking about this to you."

"To think, I once thought- A, B, M, P, oh! B, P, M, A. I see now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing." Remus waved a hand.

A short, uncomfortable silence settled over them, and they glanced away from each other awkwardly.

"You still haven't answered any of my questions with any definite. Not really."

Hermione smiled sadly.

"Talented as I am at detracting from subjects, it doesn't work much unless you want the subject detracted from."

* * *

"What do you mean?" Ron snorted. "She hates me." 

"She does _not_ hate you, Ronald," Luna replied evenly. "In fact, the opposite. As I said, she misses you."

"Barring when we were in the elevator, Ginny hasn't spoken to me in _seven years_. She does _not _miss me, she does _not_ want to reconcile."

"I'm so relieved you agree," Luna flashed a brilliant smile. "But give her a few days before you go talk to her."

"What- I'm not-" Ron gibbered, but it was useless. Luna was gone.

* * *

"Master," Callie sighed, prodding Severus on the arm. "Time to put master's box away." 

The Slytherin rolled halfway over from his position- draped across the table, half-asleep- to glare half-heartedly at the elf.

"Don' wan'u."

Sighing again, Callie snapped her fingers. A vial appeared in her hand.

"Oh, no," Severus slurred in a dark tone. "Don' thin' y'can make me. You couldn' las' time an' you-"

He suddenly spluttered, as the house elf had jinxed his nostrils shut and proceeded to upend the vial in his mouth. A stupor passed over his face as the potion went down, before he became pale, eyes widening.

"Welcome back, master," Callie muttered. "Callie might suggests master goes clean himself up, sir."

"Er, yes, thank you, Callie," Severus cleared his throat, acutely embarrassed, glancing around the thoroughly disheveled library.

"Callie will take _care_ of it, master."

The edge to the house elf's voice startled Severus, and the now-sober man lurched to his feet.

With yet another sigh, Callie waved her hand, and the mess disappeared, leaving behind a neat, orderly library.

* * *

"Albus, do you think I even want to know?" 

"Oh, why, yes, my dear," the portrait responded jovially, twinkling. "I'm sure the gossip of your favorite students must be somewhat interesting to you."

"The girl's been through enough without a group of old schoolteachers discussing her private life," Minerva admonished sternly, glancing up at his portrait.

"Oh, she doesn't mind," Albus replied, resettling his glasses on his nose.

Rolling her eyes, Minerva continued looking over notes from teachers.

"Don't you want to even speculate?" Dumbledore's portrait asked, looking wounded.

"No."

"Not even a little guess?"

"_No_, Albus."

"But there are just so many _possibilities_."

Minerva suppressed a grin, eyes kept firmly to notes of referrals and detentions.

* * *

"Do you suppose we should go back in?" 

"Not sure. Where'd that diary go?"

"Luna has it," Ginny sighed. "Do we really need it?"

"I guess not." Tonks shrugged.

There was a pause.

"But Luna knows everything, and we know _nothing_," Ginny sighed again.

"Yes, but I suppose we could figure it out ourselves."

"Hmm."

A silence fell over the two, and Ginny gazed with some trepidation at the pensieve, still on the table.

* * *

"Remus, I really do have to go." Hermione sighed, avoiding his eyes. "It's late, and-" 

"And you'd like to see your daughter before she goes to bed, I suppose?"

"_Thank you for the tea_," she said stiffly, raising her voice slightly.

The witch stood, gathering her jacket and bag. Remus followed her outside, where she turned to head for the apparition point. A pronounced frown was stretched across Remus' face, and Hermione fought to keep hers impassive.

"Well," she sighed, stepping inside the circle and turning to face him, "thank you…"

"Yes, thanks for coming to meet me," Remus returned, raising an eyebrow and stepping into the circle with her. "It was so _productive_."

"Oh, honestly, Remus," Hermione scoffed. "Don't be childish."

"Oh, _honestly_, Hermione," Remus mocked, growling. "I think you have no right to admonish _anyone_ at this point."

Hermione let out a short huff, shaking her head, and prepared to apparate. And, just as she went to turn, Remus dropped his coat to the ground, grabbed her arm, and span away with her.

* * *

"I've never been to her house," Ginny shrugged. "Never really thought about it." 

"Me, either," Tonks sighed. "I don't think anyone's been to her house. Hell, I don't even know where it is."

The two sat on Ginny's couch, slumped so that they nearly lay in their seats, bottles rested on their stomachs. Luna had left nearly an hour ago, and the girls had yet to return to Hermione's memory.

"I just… _Snape_?" Ginny scoffed. "Not only was she cheating on Ron, but with _Snape_?"

"He was kind… sort of," Tonks said slowly. "And rather funny."

"The great bat of the dungeons, the grease ball, the hook-nosed bastard that made our lives hell!" Ginny gestured dramatically, ignoring Tonks' reasoning.

"In your time, yes," Tonks replied. "In those days, he wasn't quite so bad."

Ginny let out another scoff, rolling her eyes.

"I mean that. You saw him. You've spent the past _three_ _hours_ seeing that," the auror hit Ginny's side in an attempt to emphasize her point.

Ginny fell silent, mulling the thought over with her beer.

"Even still. _Ron_."

Tonks let out a sigh, and the incident with Remus and Sirius in the Room of Requirement flashed in her mind, followed by Hermione's quick, unquestioning acceptance of Severus' prank. While she hated to think it, Tonks had to admit that being a Slytherin had changed the witch. Without the restraint of the Gryffindor image and ideals, without the worry of grades and the negative limelight of being the best friend of Harry Potter, she was different.

* * *

"Remus!" Hermione shrieked. "What are you doing!" 

Remus let go of Hermione's arm, glancing around the front hall of Hermione's home in surprise. It was a loft apartment, with paintings decorating the walls. It was very modern, professional, but Remus could already spy toys and children's books littered around.

"Go, this _second_," Hermione ordered.

"Hermione, I-"

"No, Remus," she gritted. "Go. I won't-"

A squeal was heard, a woman chuckling, and little footsteps pattered down the hall.

"Oh, Sara, I'm sure your mother- oh!" a familiar older woman, round and kind-eyed, stopped short at the sight of Remus.

"Mummy!" A blur rushed past the woman to attach itself to Hermione's legs.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she swallowed thickly, eyes wide.

"Come on, dear," The woman said in a hushed tone, pulling at Sara's arm. "Come back with Auntie Brenda."

"Mummy, will you come read me a story before bedtime?"

"Er- I-" Hermione stuttered. "I- I- of course, love. I'll be along soon. Go on to your room with Auntie."

Remus hardly got a glance at Sara's face before Brenda, his former angel, his caretaker, swooped down and gathered the oblivious girl into her arms. He saw a mass of light brown curls and fair skin before the girl was shuttled away.

"That's Sara, then?" Remus murmured, eyes on the floor.

"Y-yes," she replied, voice small.

Remus paused, eyes on the door Brenda had herded the girl through.

"Could I… meet her?"

There was a short silence.

"No."

A flicker of surprise crossed Remus' face, before a faintly hurt anger.

"Not now. She needs to go to sleep… and… and… I… no."

Remus nodded slowly. Without another word, he turned and apparated away.

* * *

It was their usual study session, and Hermione had taken her post at the counter, mixing bowl in one hand and spatula in the other- Remus was finally getting his much-wished-for brownies. Severus, Lily, James and a somewhat sulky Sirius had assembled in the living room, talking (stiltedly, in the case of a certain future animagus) to one another as they waited, having already finished their work. 

Most of the lights in the place were off; the fire provided most of the illumination they needed, a few end table lamps on for help, and a tiny, illuminated Christmas tree. The kitchen was nearly completely dark, only a small light on over the stove.

Ginny squinted at Hermione, whose gaze flickered between her baking and the group seated on the couches, then at Severus, whose eyes stayed trained on the fireplace rather than the book in his lap.

"What's wrong with them, then?" She frowned. "Why aren't they talking?"

"Maybe there was some sort of falling out. Maybe she was just really drunk and changed her mind."

Ginny shushed Tonks, watching Severus intently.

"Weren't you just piss-drunk mad about this?"

"Hush!" Ginny flapped a hand. "There's something weird."

Hermione turned, setting her mixing bowl down on the flour-dusted counter, and began sifting through the records leaning against the wall. A few moments later, the first notes of "Wonderful Tonight" from Eric Clapton's latest album came to life, floating out and settling over the rooms. Severus glanced up as he heard the music before setting aside his book and standing, making his way to the kitchen, and opening the fridge door.

Without taking his eyes from the contents, he let out a sigh.

"Why didn't you tell me he killed them?"

Hermione stopped stirring the mix immediately, turning to look at him.

"I didn't mean to say that," she muttered, glancing back at the others to make sure they couldn't hear. "I… I got overemotional… I don't usually drink, and I really can't say-"

"Another one of the twenty-year-things," Severus interrupted smoothly, voice kept thoughtfully low as he raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yes."

"Danielle, who _are _you?" He shook his head, looking at her imploringly. "I… I'm not sure whether to be mad, or sorry, or frightened."

"There's certainly nothing I can do to harm you, therefore no need to be frightened," Hermione murmured, chuckling humorlessly. "You could be mad, if you like. I suppose I'd understand. I haven't been very clear."

"Not at all," Severus agreed. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I guess I owe you that."

"Why are you so adamant about me going over to Dumbledore's side?"

Hermione paused, setting down her mixing bowl, and contemplated how to answer his question. Although she didn't notice, Lily was watching the two intently- unable to hear, but able to at least discern their expressions and tone of voice.

"I'm not," she replied nervously, eyes wide. "Not at all."

"That wasn't quite your opinion last night."

"As I said, I was overemotional, and I don't usually drink."

"And another question- you're a Slytherin, you're pureblooded. So why in the name of Merlin would Voldemort target your family?"

"As- as if every… _every _person he targets is m-muggleborn?" Hermione replied faintly.

Her forehead creased in pain as waves of memories came over her. The feral look in Bill's eyes on his first full moon as a quasi-wolf; Arthur nearly being killed by Nagini, with only Harry's dreams to save him; Neville's parents reduced to such a lost, frail state; Cedric Diggory's body, sprawled out over the Quidditch Pitch after the Triwizard Tournament; Sirius' form, arcing gracefully backwards to disappear into the veil, Dumbledore's shrouded remains in Hagrid's arms on the day of his funeral.

In an instant, it became utterly clear to Hermione that she had abandoned her task long ago. She studied the creation and destruction of Horcruxes in her cozy library, yes, but had she found anything? Had she helped in any way? Were those _books_ not present at the school in her own time?

"Join him," she suddenly said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Severus asked incredulously. "You- you were saying, not _twenty-four hours _ago, _not_ to join him!"

"I- Oh, God, this is so confusing," Hermione dragged a hand across her face. "I'm telling you to join, I'm telling you to leave. I'm offering you a life of danger and solitude, where I could make it all safe."

"What on _Earth_ are you talking about, Danielle?"

Hermione paused for a moment, silencing her ramble, before looking up at him decisively.

"I think we should start Occlumency lessons."

* * *

It was later on in the evening. Lily, James and Sirius had retired to their House, while Severus and Hermione retreated to the library- Ginny and Tonks followed with curious expressions. 

"Why, Danielle?"

This was fast becoming a popular question.

"Because," Hermione responded tiredly. "If Voldemort found that I'd even just asked you to come back to the Light, he would kill you. I've placed you in an inordinate amount of danger, and now that needs to be fixed."

Severus took a deep breath and collapsed onto one of the couches. His gaze was drawn to the painting of the four founders, and he tilted his head in contemplation.

"Why is Slytherin's hair tie blue, and not green?" He mused aloud. "Doesn't seem right."

"I asked Helga and Godric," Hermione answered, glancing at it. "It's a bit of Rowena's sleeve."

Sure enough, when Severus, Ginny and Tonks looked, the edge of one of Ravenclaw's sleeve was frayed, as if it had been torn.

"Apparently, they weren't painted that way," she continued. "But Salazar's hair kept getting in his way as he was brewing, and she gave it to him."

Severus sat quietly for a moment before turning narrowed eyes on Hermione.

"So, are you planning on teaching me Occlumency yourself? Is that a major subject back at- what was your school called?"

"Ir- er, Ireland School for Witches." Hermione flushed, immediately realizing how lame this title was.

"You don't look Irish to me," Severus muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Don't sound it, either. So, you took it there, then?"

"No," Hermione contested, holding firm against his obvious doubt. "I had a personal tutor. My parents had him teach it to me."

"Danielle, I am not going to pretend to believe every word you've told me- a well-off pureblood family doesn't move from another country and immediately be attacked, or normally teach their children a skill most adults don't know- but I don't suppose you're going to tell me anything."

"No." Hermione chuckled humorlessly. "I'm not."

Hermione had not been exactly lying when she said she had had a tutor. Remus, in fact, had taught her. Everyone in the Order had become accomplished Occlumens after Dumbledore's death, and the teenagers had deemed it a useful skill to learn, as well. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley siblings had all studied with their former DADA professor throughout the summer and well into the fall to master the skill.

Severus stared at her for a moment or so, then a grin spread across his face.

"Fine. My mind's an open book. Attack away."

Hermione grinned at this, and replied, "that's kind of the opposite of what we're going for."

* * *

"I don't understand why it has to be quite so complicated," Luna told Remus, pouring him another cup of tea. "It's not as if getting it all over with in a short summary of three or so sentences will make it any worse. In fact, I suspect it would make it all so much easier." 

"Well, it's always been her way to complicate things, hasn't it?" The werewolf sighed, twirling the teacup by its handle on the table. "If she didn't feel the need to explain _everything _she's done in her life, it wouldn't be so hard."

"Maybe she doesn't think anyone will accept it if she does just get it over with," Luna supplied. "She does have the misfortune to be very insecure."

Remus drowned his sigh in more tea, then turned his attention back to Luna.

"So, why aren't you with Tonks and Ginny?"

"Oh, Ginny's mad that I caught her caring about Ron," Luna waved a hand in dismissal. "It was nothing important. She'll get over it."

"Well, how did you know that I would be coming home from Diagon Alley at the time I was?"

"Your coat was there," Luna mumbled vaguely, followed by what sounded like a quick _accio_. A small, black bead flew out from Remus' coat pocket and into her hand, unseen by the werewolf. She then said, louder, as if to clarify her meaning, "Hermione told me she was going to meet you."

The blonde witch carefully began rearranging papers on her table. A piece of parchment Remus was sure had just been covered in an intricately drawn blueprint was found, on second check, to be completely blank, and Luna smiled.

"I figured they wouldn't stock enough tea for you in Diagon Alley, and might need to partake in some of mine before you headed home," she concluded.

Remus didn't answer, but shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

* * *

"Oh, hell," Severus groaned, holding his head between his hands. "Can we please stop?" 

"_No_," Hermione spat, frowning. "We're not stopping until you can block me out."

"Why on _Earth_ are you so adamant about this?"

"Did you not understand me when I said I had put you in an inordinate amount of danger? I wasn't _joking_, Severus. I can't let you go off with the memory of me asking you to betray Voldemort in your mind. You could be killed if he found out when you do join."

Severus paused for a minute, frowning at her.

"Aren't you worried for your _own_ safety?"

"Not particularly. He won't let school students join; he hasn't sunk to that quite yet."

"And what about in six months, when I've graduated? Assuming I do join, what then?"

Hermione paused. Ginny and Tonks recognized the distraught expression of sadness on her face, and the older witch let out a heartfelt, sympathetic sigh for the girl.

"Then," Hermione said slowly, "you will have learned Occlumency, and it will no longer be a problem."

"And if I should slip up?" Severus asked incredulously. "You can't force me to join, Danielle."

"It won't matter if you slip up. And you will join."

"What do you mean, won't matter?" He exclaimed. "That's your _life_ we're discussing, not your Hogsmeade privileges!"

"My life," Hermione gritted, "will not… be… _here_… at that time."

Severus' eyes widened, and he sat back, staring at her for a moment, trying to comprehend what she meant by this.

"Are you… moving away?"

"I suppose you could say that." Hermione sighed. "We really have to get back to-"

"You _suppose_. As in, that's not the literal translation of what your life is going to be in seven months? Then, what is?"

"The literal translation?" Hermione pondered this for a moment. "Literally, I will be going to a different place the moment my presence here is no longer warranted."

"What the hell warrants your presence here besides the necessity to be educated?" Severus stood, pacing. "Why the hell do you do this, Danielle? Why do you say things like that- are you trying to tell me something, are you trying to just confuse me and _tease _me, or are you just honestly that bad at keeping your own secrets?"

Pain flickered across Hermione's face, and she doubted whether she knew the true answer to this question. More than anything, she longed for someone to be her true friend; but how could he truly be her friend, let alone _whatever _it was they were headed towards being, when she couldn't find it in her to trust him? Before their eyes, her sad, lonely expression changed to one of determination and sudden relief.

"Oh, Hermione," Tonks breathed, shaking her head sadly. "Tell me you didn't."

Severus noticed the change in her and a startled expression rushed to replace the frustration on his face. Hermione sat on the couch next to him, looking him intently in the eye.

"Severus," she said slowly, "if you can learn Occlumency, I will tell you all you want to know."

"I- I don't understand."

"You have to understand that it would put you in more danger than you already are in. But, if you think it's worth it, I will tell you."

Tonks smacked her forehead.

* * *

And, suddenly, the affection between the two that had been so prevalent the night before had reappeared. Of course, they didn't say anything to the others- "I'll tell you why once you're able to keep it in," Hermione had calmly explained- but even when Lily, James and Sirius were there, it was evident in the little glances and smiles they sent each other. Sirius' demeanor towards the girl changed drastically for the better, now friendly and joking- apparently, he had noticed that 'Danielle' harbored no feelings for 'his' werewolf, but rather for the Slytherin that had held the title of _mortal enemy_ for the past six years. 

This particular memory was of Christmas Eve. Severus and Hermione had been working at improving his Occlumency nonstop- the witches supposed that he would be eager to learn, with Danielle's secrets as a motivator- but with only four days under the belt, they had made a small amount of progress. He could hold her out of his head for a few moments, but if he was distracted by something (say, Hermione's foot rapidly connecting with his shin) his walls would crumble, and Hermione would be privy to his thoughts (in these cases, the majority of which concerned the strength of her kick).

Sirius, Lily, James, Hermione and Severus lounged around the fireplace, enjoying mugs of hot chocolate (made 'more interesting' with firewhiskey, provided by Sirius). Hermione's presents for each of them rested under her miniature tree- she had even gotten some candy for Sirius, as a sort of sugary peace offering- waiting for the morning. At the moment, they were discussing possible presents, and what they'd gotten others.

"I got Remus some book he was going on about for months," Sirius supplied.

"Not the one on the founders?" Lily asked, looking worried. "I've got that for him."

"No, one on, er-" Sirius glanced at Severus shiftily, "dark creatures, and, er, common misconceptions about them."

Hermione wondered at the look Sirius had given Severus, before remembering the story of how the latter had almost been killed by Remus at the fault of the future fugitive; it had only been a year or so since that incident, and must have been a sore subject still.

"I've got him a new potion I think he'd like," Hermione supplied, smiling secretively. "In fact, I think he'll really love it."

"What is it?" Sirius frowned, suddenly questioning the validity of the chemistry between her and Severus, feeling threatened.

Hermione paused, smirking, before glancing in turn at each of them. James and Sirius, of course, knew what Remus was- they were his best friends. Severus knew- he'd almost been killed. Lily…? Oh, of course Lily would know- Lily was smart enough to have figured it out.

"It's not very well-known yet, but it will take away most of the pain and keep him from becoming dangerous when he transforms every month."

James and Sirius immediately blanched. Severus' eyebrows shot up, and Lily merely nodded thoughtfully.

"Don't seem so shocked," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to tell anybody, and I know everyone in this room already knew. It's not his fault, and he shouldn't be punished with physical pain and the social stigma of being _dangerous_ for something that happened to him without his consent."

"How- how did you-"

"Remus goes to visit his sick aunt every twenty-eight days," Hermione chuckled. "Either she needs serious and embarrassing help with _her_ monthly problem, or he has his own."

There was a short silence before Lily let out a short, appreciative laugh at Hermione's joke. With that, the tension in the room dissolved, leaving a relieved air behind as the group felt one more secret fall away.

* * *

Hermione sat at her desk, head propped up on her fist, staring vacantly at the papers strewn across it- papers for her job with the photography agency, letters from friends, notes to herself, reminders to do menial tasks. She didn't really see any of this; no, she was in the past, remembering once again.

* * *

**It was Christmas- that is, Christmas for the proper year Hermione belonged in- and Hermione, as well as Harry and the Weasley siblings, had returned to the Burrow. As usual, it was overflowing with people apparating in and out, staying for dinner, bringing over food and small gifts. Nearly the entirety of the Order was there- even Severus, which Hermione noted with a sick feeling in her gut, avoiding his eye when at all possible. **

**One such person visiting at this time was Nymphadora Tonks. Normally, this would not worry Hermione, as Tonks was usually pretty amicable- but tonight, the metamorphmagus was giving her odd looks, trying to edge towards her. Others kept intercepting her, giving her odd jobs to prepare the house for Christmas dinner, but the woman was working her way through the crowd. Something in Hermione's stomach sank at the determined look on Tonks' face- the younger witch was still rather paranoid around those she had known as Danielle, and while the third year Tonks had not been one of Danielle's closer friends, she had known her rather well. **

"**Happy Christmas, 'Mione," Tonks said breezily. "Come outside with me? It's pretty crowded in here." **

**Before Hermione could answer, Tonks had gripped her by the arm and began steering her towards the back door. **

"**Wh- what's this all about?" Hermione stammered, eyes wide. **

"**You know, you remind me of someone I used to know," Tonks immediately said, looking up at the night sky. "Of course, you're muggleborn and she was a witch, so it's utterly _impossible _you'd be related to her, right?"**

"**Erm, yeah," Hermione responded, cursing inwardly. She knew, she knew, and it wasn't even paranoia this time, she _knew_-! "Impossible."**

"**But you're just a _dead ringer _for her," Tonks tilted her head, then whipped her wand up. **

**Hermione shrieked- but instead of curses, found she was being hit with cosmetic charms. _Oh, Merlin, why…_**

**Even in the dim light, Hermione could see that her hair was returned to blonde, and was sure that, if she looked into a mirror, it would be Danielle's face that stared back at her. **

"**I thought it might have been you, when I first met you," Tonks shook her head, chuckling. "But you seemed so open, you didn't act oddly around any of the people you would've known if you were her."**

**Hermione didn't respond, still hunched over in fear of what Tonks might do to her. This, of course, was an irrational thought- Tonks had no reason to hurt her, Danielle had been very kind to her- but Hermione had not been quite so rational for a large chunk of time now. **

"**And then… then, at some point this year, you changed." Tonks chuckled. "There wasn't much I could see, I was only guarding the school- but I saw enough. You can't look me or Remus in the eye anymore, and you're _especially _skittish around a certain professor of yours. You clung to Harry, Ron and Ginny for about a week- but then, you acted distant to them. I can understand everything but that. Why did you pull away from them?" **

**Hermione pulled in a shuddering breath before answering.**

"**Harry and Ginny… reminded me of James and Lily." **

"**And Ron?" **

"**I…" **

**Hermione cursed under her breath, running her hands through her hair- Danielle's hair- and squeezed her eyes shut. **

"**Just… because." **

**Tonks raised an eyebrow, not believing her, but didn't press it. Her face softened as she thought about everything the girl had been through.**

"**Must be awful," she murmured, "having to hide a year of your life from everyone close to you." **

A face hovered at the window, stopped in mid-motion, petrified, eyes wide with shock. Severus felt his stomach churn nervously, his mind fighting against what was in front of his eyes as he saw the face of his most aggravating student, now his apprentice, become the face of the girl he had cared for twenty years before.

* * *

A soft, humorless chuckle escaped Hermione as she thought of Severus' reaction to her 'outing' as Danielle in the elevator. He had become a very accomplished liar as a spy, and Hermione had done nothing to indicate to anyone that he _had _been lying. Of _course_ Severus had known Danielle's true identity- Hermione had _told_ him she was from the future, had _told _him she was his student, though not her real name, as she had promised. And, of course, in her own time… 

She supposed that Severus' immediate reaction of incredulity and denial was some sort of self-preservation technique- he was nothing if not logical, and a very good liar. Once it came out that Hermione was Danielle, someone would remember that Severus himself had had quite a soft spot for the girl in his younger years. And how would it have looked for him, having a student that had been in some convoluted relationship with him? Hermione knew very well that teacher-student relationships were grounds for dismissal. The school board would not take pity on the man for the twisted situation- regardless of the fact that he had been at no fault for caring about Danielle, as they had seemed to be the same age. And, of course, Severus knew this. He was only trying to protect himself.

She let out a long sigh, repeating to herself with a heavy heart that some things never change.

* * *

**Hmm! Interesting things going on here. Hermione's been found out! Will Luna come back soon? Does she even need to see the rest of Hermione's memory, or has she been stalking everyone everywhere? How will 1997 version of Severus react to finding out his apprentice the Gryffindor Princess is his high school sweetheart? Will Harry, Ron, and Ginny realize there's something odd going on with their bookish best friend? Will Remus finally get the answers he wants? Will Albus' portrait finally get Minerva to participate in idle gossip?!?! **

**Ahh, good feedback means you might get some answers to those questions!**

**Not sure about a date for posting- hell, as soon as school's out, I immediately forget what the day and date is- but will be within two weeks!**

* * *

Also, a bit shaky on my chapter title. Stages of reconcilation? I mean, each of these bits are about reconciling something, or making something to reconcile... sort of. Luna reconciling with Ginny- though this one's not major- Remus getting mad at Hermione, Ron and Ginny reuniting, Severus sort of coming to terms with his own murky past, Ginny forgiving Hermione for cheating, younger Severus and Hermione passing an important mark in their relationship, etc. I'm not really sure about it. But it's two in the morning, cut me some slack. 

IRISH!


	13. Martyr

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Martyr  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count:** 7503  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer: **Not miiiiine. Wish it was, or it would've happened _so _differently.

* * *

**Um. Yeah. I do realize that posting this... a month ago... would've still been late. I'm sorry... I got caught up in this dangerous drug called a social life... and... it was hard to escape. But now I'm back, and APPARENTLY, this coming month, Saturn does something to the Sun that will give me a great boost of creativity and inspiration. Or something. So... yeah. Sorry about that. Thanks to all my reviewers, and I won't delay any longer- here's the chapter.**

* * *

Ginny and Tonks suddenly found themselves in Hermione's library, blinking in the bright light. They had just come from what apparently was a fond memory of Hermione's- the witch had busted the Marauders on brewing the potion to become animagi in the Room of Requirement, where the light had been dim and easy on the eyes. Although their eyes had yet to adjust to the sudden difference, the witches themselves were used to the abrupt memory switches. Ginny glanced at the figures that had begun hovering around in the memories at some point over Christmas break; silver block letters proclaimed that it was 7:36 in the morning, February 12th, 1978. 

Currently, Hermione and Severus were fast asleep, lying on the couch, a heavy green blanket pulled over them. Light was just beginning to slide over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, leaving the already shadowed trees a black silhouette against the sunrise.

Although it left a rather unsettled feeling in Ginny's gut, it was not uncommon for Severus to stay in Hermione's rooms. It was normal for them to fall asleep on the couch together, and while a good portion of their time was spent as any teenaged couple would, most of their alone time was spent practicing Occlumency. Severus had taken her promise to heart and was determined to learn, as the past few memories had demonstrated. After two months, he was much improved- nearly perfect, with very few slip-ups.

And, although the only one who knew this was Luna, as she was the only one who had read the entirety of Hermione's diary, today was the day the out-of-time witch had decided to tell Severus what she had promised over Christmas vacation.

Severus woke first, seeming unsurprised to find that he was, once again, not in his own room. One hand reached up to drag across his face and back through his hair in an effort to more thoroughly wake himself.

"His hair is a lot less disgusting here than it was when he was our professor," Ginny noted.

"I always kind of thought that his hair was like that because he always had his face stuck in the fumes coming from potions." Tonks shrugged. "Or didn't you notice? He became your Defense teacher, so he stopped hanging his head over a cauldron, and his hair stopped being greasy."

Ginny shrugged her agreement, not saying anything more.

"'Nielle," Severus mumbled, shaking Hermione's shoulder softly. "W'kup."

"Hmm." Hermione burrowed her face into one of the couch pillows, frowning.

"Danielle," he slurred, "tim'a'w'kup."

The effect of this was sorely lost as his eyes fell shut and he began to fall back to sleep. Hermione hummed in her sleep, turning and resting her head on his chest in such a way that pressed her face awkwardly to one side.

"It's just so adorable," Tonks smirked.

Ginny rolled her eyes in response.

A few minutes later, Severus' eyes popped open and he looked around the room in apparent panic.

"What time is it?"

Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily, before checking her watch.

"Nearly quarter to eight. We still have almost an hour until breakfast."

Groaning, Severus stood and stretched before casting a few charms to tidy his robes. Hermione sighed.

"Alright, fine, I'll get up," she grumbled. "But it's all your fault."

* * *

Hermione hurried out of the bathroom, wringing her hair out. With a frown stretched across her face, she headed towards the kitchen, where Severus leaned against the counter, drinking a cup of tea while he waited. Another sat next to him, waiting for her. 

"Thanks," she breathed, snatching it up hastily. "What do we have first today?"

"Potions," Severus answered. "Then double Transfiguration."

The inexplicably frenetic witch nodded before setting down her teacup, not having even taken a sip, and spun around frantically towards her desk to organize her books and homework. Severus' bag sat neatly propped against the end table by the door, and a small, well-meant smirk appeared on his face at her disorganization and frenzy.

"You do realize we still have fifteen minutes before breakfast, even?" He quipped. "Calm down, Danielle."

"Danielle, Danielle, Danielle, _Danielle_," Hermione muttered to herself, frowning. "God_damn_, whose idea was it for me to call myself Danielle? Where the _hell_ is my potions essay?"

Severus' eyebrows raised in surprise; while he knew there was something definitely odd about his girlfriend, the thought her name might not be Danielle at all astounded him.

"I-I'm going to go down to breakfast," he said, a blank look on his face. "I'll see you there."

"What? Yes, of course." Hermione's expression softened at his tone, and she turned to give him a kiss goodbye. "Save me a seat."

Severus nodded, smiling stiffly, before he turned and left, snatching his bag from beside the end table as he went. Hermione watched him leave before kicking the back of the couch in frustration.

"_Goddamnit!_" She seethed. "Goddamnit, I didn't mean to say that, god_damnit_, am I _trying_ to alienate him?!"

Tonks watched, a faintly concerned expression on her face, before turning to Ginny. The younger girl gave the auror a bemused shrug, shaking her head.

* * *

Tonks and Ginny were watching Hermione struggle through Potions, creating the same Draught of Living Death that she had battled Harry over in her sixth year, with Harry following the instructions of the very man sitting next to her. This, of course, only helped to spur on her internal battle on how and when to tell Severus about her real life, as she knew that the ink from that specific instruction would be fresh in the _half-blood Prince's_ potions book. Ginny was just contemplating the irony of this exact situation when very suddenly, a book dropped out of thin air to fall with a soft _flump_ to the ground next to her. No one in the class seemed to notice this, which astounded them- the book had literally appeared out of nowhere, and even if this _was_ Hogwarts, that didn't happen everyday. Then, Ginny happened to recognize just what book it was. 

"It's Hermione's diary!" she cried, picking it up and dusting it off. "This isn't from now, look, I can move it."

Then, also very suddenly, Luna fell out of thin air with a slightly less soft _flump_, straight onto her bottom, right where the book had just been.

There was a momentary pause, where no one knew quite what to say.

"Ouch," Luna opted for, standing to rub her backside. "Does the potions' room floor have to be quite so hard?"

With that, she shrugged and looked around, immediately spotting Hermione at work with Severus at their usual station, then Ginny and Luna staring at her with bewildered faces.

"How are you two getting along?" Luna asked brightly. "I hope you haven't been too confused without me."

"Erm- no, no, it's been fine," Ginny coughed. "What have you been doing?"

"I had tea with Remus," the blonde witch waved a hand vaguely. "I'm positive we were wrong, and Hermione never told him about the father. The poor man is _horribly _confused."

Ginny and Tonks shrugged, turning back to the potions class. Hermione was looking intently at Severus, who chopped ingredients for the potion. Suddenly, he glanced up, a surprised and somewhat aggravated look on his face.

"You're checking my defense in class now?" He muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"You were doing it without even realizing," Hermione responded, sounding proud. "You learned faster than me or Ro- my friends ever did."

"Do I get a reward?" Severus threw back, voice a little harsher than usual.

Hermione glanced up, a solemn understanding in her eyes at his tone, and nodded.

"Yes, actually, you do," she murmured. "You get my past."

Severus' eyes widened, anger gone, and he glanced up at her. She continued working as if she'd said nothing, jotting down notes on a piece of parchment before pulling the sopophorous bean towards her for juicing. Ginny and Tonks turned to each other, slightly shocked expressions on their faces.

"I didn't think she would actually do it," Tonks said, vaguely shocked. "I mean, I understand she wants to trust someone and such, but the _danger_ she's putting everyone in…"

"Well, nothing terrible happened that we knew of, now, did it? So it didn't really matter either way."

Ginny and Tonks sighed inwardly at Luna's lack of understanding and panic, then continued on watching.

"I'll tell you tonight, after dinner," Hermione murmured, keeping her voice low in the loud classroom. "I… I realize I might have… thrown you off a bit this morning, saying what I did about my name being Danielle… I'm sorry."

"I just…" Severus shook his head, still apparently shocked. "There's already so much I don't know about you, when I should know at _least _the basics. At the very least your _name_. How do I know any of what you've told me about yourself is true? How do I know I know anything about you?"

"You do know me," Hermione chuckled. "In a few ways."

Ginny and Tonks frowned; Severus tilted his head thoughtfully, considering this, and decided to frown as well. Luna sat in an empty seat nearby, propped her head up on her chin, and smiled.

"What does that mean?"

"Wait a few years and find out," Hermione smirked back.

Severus' face went slack, and he let out a disbelieving huff, suddenly realizing with acute severity that he had failed to see what had been terribly obvious through Hermione's casual remarks and general hinting.

"You're from the _fut_-"

"Hush!" Hermione scolded. "I taught you Occlumency to keep people from invading your mind and stealing what you know. That'll have been a load of good if you blurt it out in the middle of a crowded room!"

Severus apparently had never thought of the possibility of his girlfriend being from another time entirely, despite the 'few decades' references and_ strange _inability to immediately understand any pop culture reference of the time, wizard or muggle. A new frown settled over his face as he thought over his interactions with the girl, examining everything she had told him about herself.

"Alright," he finally said, "your name is not Danielle Parker."

"If it is, then there has been a serious mistake."

"Your birthday is not really September 19th, 1960."

"Well… it _is _September 19th."

"You don't really come from Ireland."

"No. I'm from right here."

"You… you've been here before, haven't you? Or… will be here… before? Hogwarts, I mean."

"Of course."

"And you know me."

Hermione paused at this, a small smirk on her face.

"Yes."

"Are we friends? Is that why you befriended me when you first got here?"

Hermione couldn't help but let out a loud, appreciative laugh.

"Hardly. You can't stand me. I don't hate you, but my best friends certainly do."

"Why would they?" Severus frowned in confusion. "You're younger than me- why would a group of eighteen year old girls hate a grown man?"

"Well," Hermione chuckled, not bothering to correct him on the gender of her friends, "I guess it's residual house rivalry."

Severus set down his tools momentarily, staring at her as if she had just turned a very interesting shade of fuschia.

"House riv- you're a _Gryffindor_!"

"That I am," Hermione smirked. "I pitched a fit when the Hat put me in Slytherin here. I even went to Dumbledore to ask him to change it."

"How much of your life is different from what you've told me about yourself?"

Hermione paused, considering this, then shrugged.

"I'm not really sure. But, really, we can't discuss this now."

"But, everything you've-"

"Really, Severus. We can make dinner in my dormitory and I'll tell you all about it then. But not right now, please?"

Hermione continued to work, biting her lip as she concentrated on the number of times she stirred the potion.

"Add a clockwise stir for every seventh counter-clockwise," Severus interjected, watching on.

"Yes, thank you, Prince," Hermione retorted with a smile. "I know your… _improvements_ on the instructions very well."

Severus straightened up, taken aback, and his eyes flicked to his book, which lay covered by spare pieces of parchment in an attempt to keep his notes private.

"Just how connected _are _we in your time?"

"Not extremely. We see each other on a professional basis." The surly Potions Master flashed before her eyes; nearly unrecognizable, a completely different person from the seventh year sitting beside her. "You are, after all, as you said, a grown man."

This thought seemed to make his head reel, and he let out a laugh of disbelief.

"You know me when I'm a grown man. _A gr_- I don't-"

"_Please,_ Sev, later, okay? Not here."

* * *

As was becoming very, very familiar for Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, Luna, and the native students of the 70's, the witch had taken her post in front of her stove. She was stirring a pot of pasta by hand- the thought of cooking magically didn't appeal to her, as it felt like cheating- and another pot filled with sauce simmered behind it. Severus sat on the couch, attempting to finish an essay for transfiguration while his mind flitted desperately between what he knew to be true about 'Danielle' and what he might soon find out. 

As was familiar for the two, _Rocky Raccoon _wound out of the record player in the corner, providing a backdrop for the simmering noise of the pasta cooking and the tentative scratching of Severus' quill on parchment. Although Severus glanced up at Hermione several times and began to ask questions, Hermione would simply shake her head curtly, reminding him that she wouldn't answer his questions until they ate dinner.

His head snapped up, eyes following the girl as she poured the sauce into the strained pasta, summoned two bowls from the cabinets, and ladled the spaghetti in.

"Am I allowed to know _now_?" He asked impatiently, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, sitting down on the couch next to him, handing him his bowl. "I suppose I owe that to you."

Ginny, Tonks and Luna sat on the floor by the fireplace, enjoying the warmth on their backs, as they observed the couple. But, as it was, the questions seemed to flee Severus the moment Hermione turned to him with an expectant look on her face.

"I-" He shook his head, frowning. "Um. You're… from…"

"The future." Hermione nodded calmly. "Yes."

"And… you know… me?"

"Yes, for quite some time."

"And…" Severus fell silent.

Ginny rolled her eyes, heaving a sigh.

"You want some help?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've known you for six years. You show nothing but utter contempt for me and my friends."

Her eyes dimmed in guilt and regret as she realized that she had never let it fully hit her that she was outright cheating on Ron with the future Professor. Nor had she thought of her two best friends in quite some time, having lost herself in being Danielle and working on her mission. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind, coming back to the present to answer another of Severus' questions.

"Am I going to be a professor here?" He threw back. "It would make sense. I see no other reason why I would see you so often."

"Erm- yes," she replied. "You were my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor last year."

Simultaneously, the reasoning for the man's constant petitioning for the job clicked in the minds of Ginny and Tonks, and they turned to look at each other, while Luna continued to smile in her vague, informed way. All along, the thought had been that it was to satisfy his penchant for the Dark Arts, when in reality, it was to fulfill the life Hermione had set out for him, to make sure he met her at the right time- after all that time, he had not given up hope on the girl he loved, but strove to find her again.

"You're not a Slytherin. Are not you a pureblood?"

"No. My parents are…" her voice tapered off, and she bit her lip, before continuing on as if she hadn't stopped, "were muggles."

"Voldemort's still around to attack where he likes in your time? He _is _going to win, then? " He asked, voice tinged with hopelessness.

"_No_," Hermione said severely, spitting the word. "He will lose his power within five years. The attack on my parents was… an isolated incident."

While she felt a twinge of guilt for lying to him about this, the cautious- perhaps _overcautious_- witch could not have him realizing what time she was from and possibly further muddying the already murky water of the time stream she swam in.

"Why do you want me to join him, when he killed your parents?"

"Because…" Hermione ducked her head. "You…"

She faltered, wondering whether it was possibly a good idea to tell him his part, and decided that she had to try.

"You are pivotal in his downfall," she finally said, deciding this summed up his part in carrying the prophecy to Voldemort well.

"Is _that_ why you decided to get close to me?" His voice was toneless, eyes suddenly shuttered, as if he thought that this revelation must be true.

"I- I can't tell if you're being serious," Hermione said incredulously, eyes wide. "No. _No_. I am not supposed to meddle in this time. I would _never_- who you are in the future doesn't matter to me, Severus. I love you _here and now_."

Severus, Ginny, Tonks, and even Luna all looked at her with surprise as the words _I love you _flew out of her mouth. She _loved _him? She had hardly known this boy for six months, and the man he became was hardly someone who had earned her love. As if realizing what she'd said, Hermione's face reddened, and she ducked her face.

"The point is," she continued shakily, "that what I knew of you before didn't make me think I should get close to you. I just… did."

Severus' expression softened, and he set down his untouched dinner on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I… I love you, too. But apparently I don't even know your real name. It's… hard to think about."

"I can't tell you my real name." Hermione's eyes fell, and she set her dinner next to his. "I can't tell my name, what exact year I'm from, who my friends are, what exactly you'll do to bring Voldemort's fall… what horrible repercussions will come from that fall, and how you'll be involved again in my time."

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before continuing.

"Your life is going to be more difficult and much, _much _more painful than those of many others."

"Why?" He shook his head, frowning.

"I wish I could say at least part of it wasn't my fault. But I've put you in danger by even letting it slip to you that Voldemort… _killed _my parents. By letting myself get close to you. Without Occlumency, the memories of what I've told you even before now could get you killed." She sighed. "I can't even tell you what holds you to your fate, because it would affect your judgment in the future, and that is something that can't be risked. Everything you do in the future _has _to be done. I can only tell you that, when you join Voldemort, you should do as he says. There will be one task- not a crime, not a murder, but a simple task- that will lead him to his fall. Join him, take note of who his true allies are, discover as much as you can. It will not be safe for you to become a spy during this reign- but you will have to, in the next."

"Why… why are you here?"

Hermione paused, contemplating this for a moment, before nodding slowly, recalling what she, Harry and Ron had learned over the summer.

"Voldemort is obsessed with immortality. He will do anything to obtain it, or anything close to it. And one such way, as he learned as a student here, is to create a thing called a Horcrux. To do this, you have to purposefully murder someone after casting a complex spell. This rends your soul in two, and you are able to place the fragment of soul not left in your body into an object- this is the Horcrux. To do this once is terrible enough- but Voldemort wants to have seven soul fragments, to have the most magically powerful number possible. This means he needs six Horcruxes, with the last soul fragment in his body- in my time, already two have been destroyed, and we know that another has at least been removed from his protection, although we can't confirm that it's been destroyed as well."

Hermione paused, reorganizing her thoughts after this speech, before continuing on.

"My purpose here is to research, find, and possibly destroy the Horcruxes we do not have in my time- the ones that would not be noticed if they went missing."

"Why would you choose _now_? What does this time have that yours does not?"

"I wanted to see what it was like, the first time around. Not only that, but…" she chuckled, shaking her head, and rubbed a hand over her weary eyes. "I know more than just you in the future, Severus. I am rather sentimental."

"Not entirely surprising. Who else is a professor?"

"No one," she laughed, but it quickly died away as she recalled Sirius' death, Peter's desperate pleading for his life in the Shrieking Shack, the battles she'd fought with Malfoy. "But I know quite a few other people here."

"Who?" Severus persisted, picking up his bowl again and beginning to eat again.

"Remus… Sirius… Malfoy, although on a much less pleasant note… Narcissa, on equally foul terms… Peter, as well… I've probably dueled with half the Slytherin house. Nymphadora Tonks, the third year, I know her, too."

"You know Remus, Peter and Black, but you don't know Potter or Lily," Severus stated dryly.

Hermione froze, cursing herself- Severus was bright, of course he would see that immediately, why had she let that slip?

"Potter and Lily are going to be killed?"

The soft crackling of the fire answered him. Hermione avoided his eye, opting instead to stare at the floor.

"It has to happen," she said softly to the carpet. "I wish nothing more than to save them and give them the life they deserve to live, but it can't be stopped."

"Why?"

"Because. It is… another factor that is going to lead to Voldemort's downfall."

"The death of one of your closest friends is just another _factor_?"

"_No_," Hermione bit out, stifling a sob. "No. It is a sacrifice that will save the Wizarding Community. They will die _heroes_."

"That they will die is the problem!"

"Do you think I don't know what you're trying to _say_, Severus!" Hermione cried out, voice strangled. "Don't make the mistake of believing that I don't _care_! I have done nothing but worry that I will ruin _everything_ by giving in to what my conscience is _screaming _for me to do, to save their lives! But I _can't_, Severus, and you can't either! It can't _be _stopped! If they don't die, _Voldemort never will_!"

The distraught witch fell silent, burying her face in her hands as she struggled to hold back the anguished tears that had been building since she had arrived. Severus remained silent, forehead creased in frustration as he found himself unable to comfort the girl he loved.

"I know that I shouldn't have come here," she murmured, wiping at her eyes as she looked back up. "I should have stayed in my own time, I should have listened to Minerva-"

"Professor McGonagall? Why was she against your coming here? Are you supposed to be here at all?"

She let out a shuddering sob, clutching at Severus' shirtfront, wishing for him to stop questioning her, to stop rubbing salt in her already tender wounds. As if hearing this thought, the suddenly guilt-ridden boy pulled her to him so that they lay on the couch, face to face, as she attempted to stem the flow of tears.

Ginny only looked on with a hopeless sadness written across her face, trying to imagine how it felt to be held by the one you knew had caused so many people such lasting pain and be unable to stop it.

"I'm sorry, Danielle," he murmured softly in her ear, hand smoothing over her hair in an attempt to calm her. "It's alright, you don't have to answer any more questions… it's alright, love…"

"Call me-" Hermione hiccupped, opening her sodden eyes to look up at him. "Call me Jane?"

"Jane's your real name?"

"I-it's part of it… I… I can't tell you my full name, or you'll- you'll know who I am when we first meet."

"Why would that be so bad?" he quietly asked, his voice more gentle than Ginny or Tonks were used to hearing.

Hermione looked up at him, solemnity overtaking the despair in her voice and expression.

"Do you want to meet me when I'm eleven, watch me grow up, knowing that it was me, knowing that young girl was the one you loved as a teenager? It would be disturbing enough for you if it was you as the age you are now- but a grown man, having been in love with his eleven year old student?"

Severus touched his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he thought.

"You will be leaving at the end of the school year?"

"Yes."

"And after that, I won't see you again until your own time?"

Hermione closed her own eyes, frowning as if in pain, before murmuring that this was correct.

"I've already promised you to come back to the Light when I'm needed. Can you promise something?" Severus opened his eyes again, pulling back from her to be able to take in the entirety of her expression. She nodded quickly, and he continued. "Can you promise that the moment you return to your own time, you come find me, to tell me who you are?"

Hermione winced, opening her mouth to reply, but paused before laughing weakly.

"Can I at least wait until graduation, when it wouldn't be quite so illegal to be with you again?"

Severus let out a soft chuckle and kissed her warmly, pulling her tight to him, before nodding.

"Alright. But the second the ceremony is over…"

* * *

It became a tradition once the man was employed at Hogwarts that, every year, without fail, Severus would venture to Dumbledore's office to ask him for the inexorably empty post of Defense teacher. And, every year, without fail, Dumbledore would refuse him, choosing instead another candidate. Severus was intelligent- he knew that, according to the hints she had given, as long as he didn't have the post of Defense teacher, his Danielle, Jane, his mystery love was not graduating. So he kept his post of Potions teacher, calmly but exhaustedly waiting. 

But the fact he was not Defense professor did not keep him from carefully examining the graduating class for any hint that there was one that knew him, any clue that his Jane might be among them- a glance in his direction, any show of the odd nervous habits Jane had. And the fact he was not Defense professor, and the slightly lecherous feeling he got from examining all the seventeen year old girls for such a reason, did not keep him from returning, every year after the graduation ceremony, to her old quarters- after seven, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen years since their short time together, the password was still _tempus_, a bittersweet reminder of the secret she had guarded so jealously and so carelessly. Armed with a bottle of Rosemerta's most expensive wine and the small hope that perhaps she had lied when she said _Defense _teacher to throw him off the time, the Potions Master would steal away, opening the portrait of Florence the Flighty and slipping inside. After all the years that passed, Hermione's rooms remained nearly the same- her own clothes and other belongings left with her, but the furniture, the books in her library, even the stack of records and the player by the kitchen counter remained.

Alone, he would put on an album and open the door to the courtyard, sitting under the tree where they shared their first kiss and drinking the first half of his wine bottle. Every year, as night wore on, Severus would retire to the inside, turn off the record player, and build a fire. He would sit on the couch with his bottle for company and wait, hoping against all reason that _this would be the year_. But, deep down, every year, he knew that it was _not _the year. He knew his Jane, their Danielle, and he knew, every year, that he had not seen her in any of the students in the graduating class he'd spent the last seven years with.

Every year, the night of the graduation ceremony, Severus would finish off that bottle of wine and fall into her old bed, still dressed in the same blankets. A night of fitful half-sleep would follow, from which he always woke cold, hung over, and disappointed that, yet again, it had not been the year. The professor would tidy the room himself, set preserving charms on it to last the next year through, and stand to observe it and check that it still retained the same essence it had when he was seventeen.

Of course, it didn't- it never would, because it was not the year, and she had not yet returned to him. The empty wine bottle was always set next to the previous ones from the years before that had not been the year, in a row on the mantel where there used to be her pictures. And, before he could allow himself more than the necessary amount of nostalgia and grief, he would leave, sealing Florence's portrait from anyone but himself. This tradition had been carried out since he was twenty-four- his first year as a professor at Hogwarts, and each year, he would grow a little more disgusted with himself, at how he, the twenty-four, twenty-seven, thirty-three, thirty-six year old, was supposed to be in love with a seventeen year old girl.

And so it went, for thirteen long years.

* * *

Ginny, Luna and Tonks were whirled through memory after memory, grasping only a brief sense of where they were and what was going on before they were sent hurling back into the gray again. Hermione explaining the Horcruxes more thoroughly to Severus. Researching, without the help of Severus, when each item thought to be a Horcrux had last been seen. Researching Dark magic and how to dispel it. Using the Polyjuice Potion to become teachers and ply Dumbledore with questions, with a disastrously embarrassing result when they returned to their own bodies in the middle of their questioning. A few memories of a less professional and more sentimental value, as Lily finally giving in to James' advances, and a rather memorable Valentine's Day. Setting tracking charms on the hidden items that were the Horcruxes. Sneaking out- with the unexpressed permission of Dumbledore- to find said objects. Having to turn back when the obstacles set up by the Dark Lord became too difficult to manage. Sneaking to the Room of Requirement with Lily, James, Sirius and Peter and becoming an animagus- her form, a velvety brown bat and Lily's, a doe, to the delight of Prongs. Returning again and again to the Horcruxes' hiding places to finally succeed in obtaining the Horcruxes they needed. 

Finally, the whirlwind stopped, and the three fell into a heap on the floor in front of Hermione's fireplace, overwhelmed by seeing so much in such a short time. It was the middle of the night- perhaps early morning- and Hermione and Severus sat on her couch, staring with shock at their dangerous treasure.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, looking down at the objects lying side by side on the coffee table. "Just- wow."

"I thought there would be more than these," Severus murmured, tilting his head. "You said he wanted to make six of them."

"Well, two are destroyed, definitely. One is safe, and we think we know where it is, but it would change the timeline for me to get it myself. And Voldemort's snake, Nagini, is the other- but we can't exactly steal her. So these are all we can have."

An ornate, golden cup glittered, its engraving of a badger made more dramatic by shadow. Next to it, a simple but elegant quill rested, the already golden tint of its feather cast into reds and oranges from the fire.

"Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's quill," Hermione sighed. "The cup has magical properties, but the knowledge of what they were and how to use them was lost when the last owner and descendant of Hufflepuff was killed by Voldemort. The quill is a Snidget feather and has its own, self-replenishing ink- which is not ink, at all, really, but pure liquid silver. It's said that it was used, originally, to create the list of students to be accepted to Hogwarts."

"And these are… dark objects?"

"They're not just dark…" Hermione sighed pensively. "They're quite literally a part of him. It's twisted that something so good, which would normally be treasured, would be made into something so… evil."

Ginny found she couldn't look away from the heirlooms sitting so casually on the dark wood, eyes welling at Hermione's thought, her mind automatically going to Harry and to the Last Battle. How could Hermione think that, just because something was made into a Horcrux, it had become evil? When the object of the hated curse had never had any intention of being so, when it had done nothing wrong itself, how could Hermione say such a thing?

The seventeen-year-old Ginny had wondered, for what seemed an eternity, how it was possible that Voldemort died. After the shock at Harry's own death had worn away, it was replaced with a terrifying fear that he had died in vain, because Voldemort had two Horcruxes that they had never managed to destroy, nor even to find. But Hermione- Hermione had found them herself, and never bothered to reassure her, had never even visited, even as she suffered the simultaneous losses of her husband-to-be and unborn child. Hermione could have saved her the pain and anxiety that worrying so had caused her- but Hermione had been in America, had she not? Hadn't she been off, living her new life, having her own child?

Tonks glanced over at the distraught girl next to her and wrapped her arms around her, adopting the role of the older sister Ginny lacked but so desperately needed to understand her pain. Bitter, hot tears welled from an old source, infectious and stagnant from negligence and denial, to slip down the freckled face with rapidly increasing momentum.

Oblivious the woman in pain huddled in a ball on the hearth, Severus stared at the objects a while longer, frowning, before turning to look back to the girl next to him.

"What… what do we do with them?"

Hermione stared back at him, slightly caught off guard.

"Erm… well… keep them, I suppose."

"I thought you were to destroy them."

"Well, he might feel the difference. We can't risk him knowing that his Horcruxes have been destroyed and making new ones."

Severus nodded thoughtfully, then repeated his question.

"What do we… _specifically_… do with them? It's not as if you could leave them here. Someone could find them."

"Erm. I'd have to hide it somewhere hard to get to, but easy enough to remember." Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully, then sent an apologetic glance at Severus. "I don't think you should help me on this one."

"Why not?" He asked, affronted.

"Well… if you know where they are, and Voldemort does manage to break your defenses, he would know as well. You being hurt would be horrible enough- but he would be better prepared for us in the future, and we would lose all hope of ever defeating him."

Ginny sucked in shuddering, labored breath, running the palms of her hands over her cheeks to dry them even as the tears kept coming.

"I think we need to take a break," she muttered, letting out a pitiful, apologetic chuckle.

Luna and Tonks only nodded helplessly, not knowing how to help their friend.

* * *

"Can… can we just give it a- a rest for the night?" Ginny asked as they sat at the kitchen table, avoiding their eyes. "I'm just… I'm exhausted." 

"That's fine," Tonks nodded. "You want me to stay and keep you company?"

"No, no, it's fine," the redhead replied, shaking her head vigorously. "I think I want to be alone. My love to Ben." Her red eyes drifted to Luna. "And to Neville."

"Of course." Tonks nodded.

"Goodnight, Ginny." Luna smiled sadly.

The older woman stood slowly, stretching, before leaning down to give Ginny a brief hug.

"Goodnight, Gin. See you in the morning."

* * *

**She was not supposed to be there. **

**It had practically been Harry's _order_ that she remove herself to a safe house in Ireland; while she, furious, argued that she should fight with him, he (as well as everyone else) argued back that a four-month-pregnant woman should _not _be at a battle. **

**But, there she was, a four-month-pregnant woman at a battle. She didn't care how angry Harry would be with her once he found out she hadn't remained on the Unplottable farm they'd procured _specifically_ so that she'd have somewhere safe to stay for the duration of her pregnancy. It was much worse to sit amidst those quiet, peaceable hills, knowing that it was an illusion, that somewhere, everyone she loved could already be dead. **

**And so it came to be that Ginny clung to the branches of an outer tree of the Forbidden Forest, eyes searching desperately past them to the school grounds. Nearby, a small group of unicorns hovered, watching the girl with a hesitant but vaguely protective air. These, of course, were the foals; the full-fledged adults were lending as much help as they could to the Order. The oldest of the group was a somewhat awkward-looking mare, silver just beginning to show through the golden coat, as if it could be related to the awkward beginning stage of pubescence. One young centaur, his human face looking that of no more than an eight year old boy, shifted uneasily in the shadows, not joining the unicorns or the witch, but coming to assert his presence and offer his comfort as well. **

**Outside this small collection of shared discomfort and offered support, the battle was in full frenzy. Ginny could see only half of the battle. It was somewhat ironic that the battle would take place at Hogwarts; for years, it had been known as the safest place to be, and now, here was laid the final act of this tragedy, the last battle between good and evil.**

**The brilliant lights of curses shot through the air, often missing their intended targets. One portion of Hogwarts had been reduced to rubble, fire leaping into the air from the once beloved building. Grassfires burned intermittently, as well as any other plant-life that had gotten in the way of the battling sides. The smoke and haze was thick and gritty, making it hard to see, and Ginny's eyes strained for any sign of any of her loved ones. **

**The Dark were not evenly matched to the Light. Although many of the Ministry members who had not yet been swayed by the new Minister Thicknesse had come to fight, Voldemort had amassed a much greater army; Inferi, dementors, graphorns, and even two lethifolds had come to aid Voldemort, though how he had managed to tame the silent lethifolds baffled Ginny. The numbers of actual Death Eaters was much below the count of beasts, but, altogether, the force was a formidable one. The Light had managed to persuade the giants, unicorns, some werewolves, and the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest to fight for their side, but even so, they were greatly outnumbered. Ginny was appalled at the number of students that had snuck into the battle, and at that not all of them had joined forces with the Order.**

**A sudden hush fell over the battlefield, and Ginny found herself unable to move but for her eyes- a quick glance at any nearby fighter, Dark or Light, and she found that the same was with everyone. A cold light penetrated the smoke, clearing it until everyone was able to see the source. **

**A dome of iron-colored light entrapped Harry and Voldemort. Harry's left hand was wrapped around his wand, his right around Gryffindor's sword, as he lay, panting, on the ground, Voldemort standing over him. A cruel smirk dominated the Dark Lord's deformed features as he raised his wand to the boy, but it was snapped away as Harry, a deranged grin spread across his features, said something to him.**

**Their voices could not be heard from where she was, and she longed to be able to move closer. As if obeying her wish, her body was pulled closer, twenty feet from the steely dome, to come to a rest somewhat behind Harry. Their voices grew to swell out over the field, rushing over every witch and wizard and magical creature there. **

"**You don't even know, do you?" Harry jeered. "Neither can live while the other survives- well, that's not quite right, is it? _You _can't live without _me_, Riddle." **

"**Deluded boy, you don't know what you're talking about," Voldemort spat. "Once you're gone, I-"**

"**So kill me!" Harry cut in. "Try and see if you can-"**

"**_Crucio!_" **

**Then, an unimaginable thing happened- as the effects of the curse ran through Harry, Voldemort staggered, falling to all fours, a look of shock and fear on his face, a roar of pain ripping from his throat. He lifted the spell immediately and stared at Harry, red eyes wide with apprehension. **

**A hoarse chuckle emitted from Harry as he rolled onto his side, even as he spit blood into the blackened grass. He continued to chuckle as his knuckles grew white on both his wand and his sword, and the weakened wizard slowly began to sit up. **

"**_Accio Nagini_," Harry spat. **

**The writhing snake flew from Voldemort's shoulders to come to a rest on Harry's lap. As she went to attack the boy, he began to spit at her, hissing in almost a crooning tone. She stopped, mesmerized, and didn't seem to notice when Harry suddenly raised his sword and ran it through her thick body. **

**Voldemort let out a strangled cry, still on his knees, staring at the boy now rising to stand before him.**

"**You-" he said, pointing the sullied sword in Voldemort's face, "you can't live without me. You have no Horcruxes left, Riddle. The diary's been gone for years- the ring's gone, the locket's gone, the cup, the quill, your snake, and now-" **

**Harry broke off, a half-crazed sob escaping him, and he closed his eyes. **

"**You've taken nearly everything I have, Riddle. And now… now I have to take the last thing _you_ have."**

**His eyes raised back to the field, and Ginny's widened in shock as green met brown.**

"**I love you," he whispered simply. **

**Suddenly immobile again, Ginny watched in horror as Harry turned the sword and stabbed himself through the heart. Their eyes widened together, and he half-turned to her, arm outstretched as if to take her hand from so far away. His own shaking hand let fall his wand, while the other lost its grip on the sword, leaving it horribly suspended in his chest. Ginny tried to rush forward, to pull the sword from him, to make him better- but she was frozen, by her own shock and by the magic holding them all so still. A look of pained acceptance on his face, Harry fell to his knees before gracelessly slumping to his side, one arm still reaching across the ground towards Ginny. His staring, green eyes pierced through her, and a hysterical scream erupted from her. Voldemort let out an inhuman scream of his own, shuddering and curling into a ball next to the now dead Boy-Who-Lived. **

The cold light broke, rushing out to imbue everything with a tinge of the color of the death Voldemort and Harry Potter had shared.

* * *

Ginny screamed, bolting up in her bed, tears already pouring down her cheeks. As she came to recognize her own dark bedroom, she broke into sobs, clutching the necklace she wore to feel for the engagement ring she had kept there for the past seven years.

* * *

There you go! Please review to tell me what you think. I have a theory on why it was so hard for me to write this chapter- when I wrote chapter ten, I posted it immediately, without first beginning to write the first few pages of this, as I usually do when writing. So I had nothing to go on after I posted chapter ten, and it severely messed up my writing habits. But don't worry- I just wrote the first pages of chapter twelve. And twelve reviews will get it up all that much faster. Fifteen and it'll be extra long. More than that and you might even get some real-time non-memory shipping going on.

so REVIEW!


	14. Opinions, Goodbyes, False Promises

**I won't even try to come up with an excuse this time. Honestly. Just know that chapter 13 is actually 13 pages done and will be completed soon... chapter 14, I won't make any promises. This year is kind of more streshful than I thought it would be.

* * *

****Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Opinions, Goodbyes, False Promises  
**Author: **Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **4885  
**Genre: **Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels: **time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary: **Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer:** If it _was_ mine, I think the fandom would've lynched me by now for leaving them hanging. **

* * *

**

And without any further unnecessary and undeserved ado...

* * *

Tonks could tell by the harrowed, tired look in Ginny's eyes that she had dreamt about it again. It wasn't as if this were an unusual occurrence; that look would haunt her brown eyes more often than the pink-haired metamorphmagus thought was healthy at this point.

The two sat at Ginny's kitchen table once more, eating the breakfast Tonks had offered to make and carefully avoiding any darker conversation topic. Ginny kept fiddling with her necklace, which Tonks had come to recognize the last seven years as a dead giveaway she was thinking of Harry.

It wasn't hard to imagine why the last memory had been hard for Ginny to handle, especially with how Hermione had worded her thoughts on the evil nature of Horcruxes. Dumbledore's portrait had explained what a Horcrux was to each of them after the battle- then, to the shock, dismay and anger of nearly everybody, explained that Harry himself had been one, that this had happened when Voldemort's spell rebounded, that not even Voldemort had known. The fury of Harry's friends and adopted family had been nearly frightening; many of them still could not forgive the former Headmaster for keeping this from them for so long, for giving them hope that he could ever survive.

Apparently, Dumbledore explained, when he had finally told this to Harry, the boy had gone to Voldemort to be killed, to preserve the safety of everyone else. This sacrifice of love- the very same Lily had used that saved Harry's own life as a baby- had begun the strange, powerful magic that halted the battle, preventing any more bloodshed on the grounds of Harry's true home. Harry had planned for someone else to immediately kill Voldemort after his death; what he had not counted on was the fact that Voldemort's soul had become so fragmented and unstable after being torn into eight pieces that it could not support its own life any longer. Voldemort's soul collapsed on itself, withering in the tired body of a man who had used far too many abusive methods to become what he was. The Dark Lord's body could not survive without that one last thread holding it to life, and so, when Harry killed himself, he effectively plunged the sword through Voldemort's bony, empty chest, as well.

The explanation was still painful to hear.

"Whenever you're ready," Tonks shrugged at the pensieve, still sitting on the counter, before getting up to wash her dish.

Ginny nodded slightly, pushing her food around on her plate, before sighing and emptying the half-eaten food into the trash.

"Wait for Luna, then we'll go in," Ginny replied quietly, setting her plate on the counter next to the sink.

Tonks nodded, sliding this dish into her hands and washing this as well, while Ginny turned to lean against the counter.

The sudden appearance of a red-faced Ron Weasley next to her the kitchen table was enough to knock some life into the dreary, depressed women.

"I- wh- what are you doing here!" Ginny spluttered, standing up, hands curling into fists at her sides.

"I-" Ron cast a bashful look at the bewildered Tonks before glancing down at his shuffling feet. "I came to… to… apologize."

"Ap-" This seemed to render Ginny speechless, and she went slightly limp, shocked out of her fury.

Still seeming confused, the youngest Weasley made her way to the table and took a firm seat in the chair she had vacated only a moment before. Ron looked a bit surprised at her reaction, as well, and cautiously sat across from her. Tonks stood by the sink, looking out of place and awkward.

"I… I never meant what I said to you," Ron blurted. "I was stupid, and angry, and scared that you'd get hurt, and I didn't mean it."

"Wh…" Ginny cleared her throat, shook her head, and seemed to come out of her stupor. A frown creased her brow. "_Which _it? There were _several _occasions on which you insulted not only me, but Harry as well, if I recall correctly."

"Any of it," he replied feebly. "I didn't mean _any _of it. I was so scared of you being hurt, either yourself, physically, or emotionally from him being kill-" he broke off, wincing, as Ginny's eyes darkened. "I didn't want you to be so close to him and risk being hurt… I- I was scared, and I only wanted to keep you safe…"

"By calling me a whore?" Ginny bit out, eyes watering. "By telling me I would… that I would be a t-terrible m-mother because I was t-too young and s-self-absorbed, and we were being s-stupid and didn't really l-love each other?"

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he bleated. "Merlin, I'm so, so sorry, and I can never change what I said to you, but if I could, I'd give anything to make you happy."

The redhead began to sob, wrapping her arms around her older brother's neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. Ron hugged her gratefully, whispering soothingly in her ear.

"Bastard," she sobbed into his shoulder, "you _bastard_, why?"

"I'm sorry, Gin, I'm sorry…"

"H-How could you d-do this to- to _me_?" The witch's voice turned angry, and she pounded her fist into her brother's chest. "You- you were supposed to _love _me, a-and-and _b-be _there f-for me-"

"Gin, I swear, I-"

"She's not talking to you, love," Tonks murmured, eyes mournfully pointed to the floor.

Ron fell silent, rubbing circles on his sister's back, and suppressed tears of his own, the scene of Harry's self-sacrifice swimming in his vision.

* * *

"You don't realize the wounds you've ripped open, do you?" Luna said to Hermione. "Forcing everyone- _especially _Ginny- to relive the War. Putting all this stress on everyone to find your story on their own, instead of having put it up front in the first place, when it wouldn't have caused all this pain. I don't think Ginny believes you trust us one bit anymore."

Luna had shown up that morning in Hermione's apartment, to the witch in question's utter bafflement.

"Luna, I don't think you should be here right now."

"Yes, perhaps, but that's avoiding what I just said," Luna retorted, an unusually sharp edge to her voice. "You, Hermione Jane Granger, are being selfish."

"Self- what?" Hermione's eyes widened first in hurt, then narrowed in anger. "Luna, you need to lea-"

"You're putting them through unnecessary pain. And for _what_? To save your own pride, because you can't admit the truth? You can't even look them in the eyes and _tell _them, you have to just _give _them the facts and let _them _come to the conclusions? That's not _fair_, Hermione, and you know that."

Hermione's face turned very red, and Luna stared at her, her stern expression foreign to the usually kind, dreamy face.

"What I think is even more selfish," Luna continued quietly, "is that you've hardly talked to Remus about anything- even expressed the _tiniest _bit of gratitude for how he helped you in America- and you haven't so much as _looked _at Severus. It's utter _cowardice_, and I'm ashamed, Hermione. You need to get over your own _pride_ and just _do it_."

Without even the command of a spoken spell or the use of a wand, the tracking bead flew out of the coat slumped on the chair by the door and zipped back to Luna's hand. With that, the blonde witch turned angrily on the spot and disappeared, leaving behind a shocked, confused Hermione.

"But how'd you kn-" she began to utter faintly, before trailing off into silence.

* * *

**It had been just shy of one year since she left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Hermione was delighted.**

**Her delight did not stem from anything she would've normally found entertaining in her new home in America; it was not something Adelaide had said, nothing funny on the television, none of the small joys she normally had in her new, guilty life.**

**No, Hermione was delighted, though also ashamed, and very nearly angry, because she had been found. If it had only been a few months earlier, she would have been furious and terrified, but as it was, it seemed the only thing Remus wanted to do was act as if nothing were out of the ordinary. The two sat next to each other in a loud, smoky, muggle bar somewhere in California, drinking and talking quietly. **

"**How did you find me?" Hermione finally asked, after much avoidance of the subject. **

"**Well…" Remus sighed, setting down his drink, "I figured you wouldn't want to move too far away from Brenda if you didn't have to. She, of course, couldn't tell me where you were outright, though she tried- and she couldn't _show _me. So, finally, she had to send you an owl. I couldn't follow _hers _to your house, for some reason, so I had to wait for you to reply, then put a tracking spell on _your_ owl, which, as it lives with you, _was _able to show me in to your apartment." **

**Hermione raised her eyebrows, impressed, before shaking her head.**

"**Why would you go to all those lengths to find me, though?" She scoffed in disbelief. "When you knew I didn't want to be found?" **

**Remus took another long drink from his bottle before turning to give her a steady look.**

"**Everyone's gone to pieces, Hermione," Remus said slowly, sighing. "Ginny's barely left her room at the Burrow the last year- which hardly helps Molly, because she can't deal with the deaths of her _own _husband, her future son-in-law, and her future grandchild all at once, while taking care of a daughter nearly invalid from depression. Ron's left the house and got some apartment in London, hasn't spoken to anyone in at least a month. In fact, _all _the Weasleys' are crashing."**

**Remus shook his head mournfully, letting out a dark chuckle as he tilted the bottle back to his mouth, draining a good amount of it before continuing on. **

"**Tonks hasn't spoken to me in months, but I suppose that's just as well, with how we ended. Minerva's hardly keeping her head above water as the new Headmistress, trying to live up to Dumbledore's legacy, but she can hardly deal with his death, let alone Harry's. Kingsley and the rest of the Order have all disappeared- we can't find a single damn one of them, not a clue where they went but for some note from King saying he was off to go hunting with some friends in Thailand. And Severus… he's become more of a recluse than he was before, if possible. Just before the War ended, he barricaded himself in his house, left Minerva to find a new Defense teacher last moment, and didn't come out until the battle. Now he's taken his Potions post back, left Defense well alone, but he doesn't talk to anyone." **

**The werewolf paused, drumming his fingertips on the dark wood of the bar, before pausing thoughtfully.**

"**Neville and Luna seem alright with each other, though."

* * *

**

"Come, now, Minerva. Greta's told me the most _intriguing_ story, I'm sure you'd love to hear-"

"Albus, _please_!" Minerva cried out, groaning with frustration. "I do not want to pry into the lives of my students!"

"And if the lives of your students involve the lives of your colleagues?" Albus grinned. "Very… closely… involved?"

Minerva froze, quill stopped mid-sentence, and she closed her eyes, feeling reluctant intrigue rush over her. Of course, if it involved her _colleagues_, it was not prying into the lives of a complete other generation, it was not prying into the lives of her students, just-

"No!" she groaned. "Albus, please, I-"  
"Don't you remember who Danielle Parker was close to, my dear? A certain bet that we all had going on her and a certain friend of hers?"

Now, the tired witch really did stop and look up at Albus' portrait, tilting her head.

"My God," she murmured, "I'd forgotten all about that. Danielle was very close to Severus, wasn't she?"  
"Oh, yes. Greta's told me- Greta, by the Charms room, she visits quite often around the castle with the other portraits- she told me that at _one _point in Severus' school years, he was notoriously bad at keeping to his own rooms. Sometimes he wouldn't even return to the Slytherin dormitories."

The Headmistress contemplated this for a moment, then shrugged.

"Even if Severus had been involved with Danielle, it wouldn't matter. That was twenty years before Hermione's time, and I doubt whether Severus would recognize her as she was. And I _highly_ doubt Hermione would admit to her Potions Professor to their relationship nineteen years previous."

"And, logically, she would avoid him at all costs, should this be the case?"

"_Yes_, Albus, I suppose that would be the _logical conclusion_," Minerva retorted. "May I return to my work now?"

"Oh. Then am I mistaken in remembering which apprenticeship Hermione had applied for that November, _after_ having returned from the past? After all, she did only apply for one, I believe, despite how you and Filius both fought to have her."

"Albus, I really have no intere-" Minerva stopped again, thinking. "She was Severus' apprentice. I remember, because I thought it was odd, at the time, when the rest of us were willing to take her- except Pomona, that is, who already had signed Neville."

"Ahh." Even in his portrait, the former Headmaster's eyes gave the familiar twinkle.

"Yes, that's right. She became the potions' master's apprentice. But, didn't she tell Ron and Harry that no other position had been open…?"

Now thoroughly reminiscing on the past, Minerva set down her quill, a frown on her face as she thought. Albus merely grinned.

"Why, Minerva, my dear, I believe you're participating in what you would call _idle gossip_. I'm _highly _disappointed in you."

* * *

Graduation day was a bittersweet experience for Hermione. Her dress robes were the wrong color and she stood in the wrong section with the wrong people, feeling hollow and missing the friends that knew her real name. But she knew she would be seeing them again within a few days, and knew it was the prospect of the futures of her _new _friends that formed a lead ball in her stomach.

Tonks, Luna, and a still-upset Ginny were not privy to these thoughts, but could see them clearly in the obvious expression of conflict on the witch's face.

After the ceremony, Severus and Hermione broke away from their fellow Slytherins and returned to her rooms, a somber silence kept between them, while the three observing witches followed at a respectful distance. Not long after, James, Lily, Remus, Sirius and Peter joined them, their expressions torn between exuberance and nostalgia.

"Suppose we've all got to say goodbye," Lily murmured, eyes downcast.

"Don't be like that, Lils," James admonished lightly, wrapping an arm around her. "We'll all write. And you know you're coming to Godric's Hollow in July, and we can all apparate, so we can see each other all the time."

Hermione bit her lip, tugging on a lock of her hair as she listened to this. A very morose look on his face, as he knew the same didn't apply for him and _his_ girlfriend, Severus took her hand, entwining their fingers- everyone seemed to surreptitiously glance at this, but no one commented. The group stood in somber silence, shuffling their feet, before Sirius spoke up.

"Jamesy, Prongs, ol' pal," Sirius said slowly, his voice adopting an airy, pompous tone, "didn't we have a fan-_tastic_ display set up for our final night in this fine magical establishment?"

"Why, Padfoot, you sly dog, I do believe you're quite correct," James replied in a similar accent, his face lighting up. "Moony, brother of mine, is everything in the proper place?"

"Of course," Remus replied in his normal tone of voice, seeming affronted. "When have I ever let things go wrong?"

"Only on one occasion, and I do believe I'd gotten you _quite _inebriated beforehand," Sirius grinned, wrapping an arm around Remus' shoulders. "Now! To business!"

At this call, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter turned and hurried for the door, presumably to set up their prank. The three witches observing quickly stepped out of their way, curious expressions on their faces.

"I don't want to know," Lily stated in a flat tone.

"I do," Hermione replied, a weak grin showing through her expression of poorly disguised grief. "Shall we go take a look?"

"Oh, it won't be for quite some time," Lily waved a hand. "Logically, they would want to wait until everyone could see- so it would probably be during the end of the year feast, and not while everyone is supposed to be packing."

Hermione's eyebrows raised, and her grin grew.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you know what they're planning."

"Oh, I don't," Lily waved a hand, flopping down on the couch. "It's just they're all very vain. And this _is _their last chance to have the entire school looking at them."

* * *

"You have to admit, Lil, this is pretty impressive, even for them," Severus commented to the red-haired girl later that night.

Lily's lips twitched towards a small smirk as she gazed up from their spot under the tree by the lake. It was nearing nine o'clock, when all the students were just leaving the end of the year feast, when an explosion had rocked the castle. Outside, red, green, blue, and yellow embers- after all, as they were graduating, and with the new non-enmity between Severus and the Marauders, each house deserved a fair say- streaked towards the ground, blasting up at the last second to reshape into various forms and chase after the students.

This was, of course, only to get everyone's attention.

Once the entirety of the school had adjourned to the grounds to see this spectacular firework go off above the lake, a sudden, slightly glimmering mist had shrouded the scene. When most of it lifted, it left behind something no one had expected.

During their exploration of the castle, the Marauders had come across an even _more_ interesting room in the Room of Requirement than the one that stored all the _hidden_ objects. Instead, they somehow managed to find _Filch's_ room.

Toys, cases of butterbeer, bottles of fire whiskey, and every last thing they could transport from the Room of Confiscation had materialized outside and began to whiz around, bonking people on the head and occasionally exploding. Years of confiscated goods struggled in a blur of madness to find their original owners, and to aggravate as many people as possible in the trying.

Not only this, but duplicates of every teacher had appeared in scores, running around, attempting to restore order and somehow instead adding to the madness- each time a clone of the teachers would try to vanish an object, it would grow steadily larger and larger, and each time they would try to use a _reducto_ to destroy an object, it would explode into five new ones.

Not only _this_, but lights had appeared, in various colors and shapes, floating around in what was left of the mist or shining down on it from some undefined place to highlight each swirl. With the lights came what Hermione immediately recognized as the Beatles' records that had been sitting in the kitchen for so long.

Silver-tinted snow began to fall lightly, despite the heat of early June, accumulating quickly beneath the slowly-dissipating mists. A snow fight quickly ensued.

"Don't you think they may have gone a bit _overboard_?" Hermione chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the Giant Squid, which had come to the surface of the water and begun to hurl compact balls of lake water at the students.

"Nah," Severus shrugged. "At least we know we won't forget this any time soon."

Hermione's face fell, and her eyes dropped down to the ground as she began to gnaw her lip. Forget this? How could she, with how odd the situation was, with this being her last night with these people, people she had come to know and love? She would never see Lily, James, Sirius or Peter again. She would certainly never see Narcissa again, on such good terms as they were, even if the girl had suddenly begun shying away from her new friends around the middle of the year. She would see Remus and Tonks again- not that she saw Tonks often, but sometimes talked to the misplaced Slytherin girl at meals, or help her with homework in the common room. And Merlin knew she would see Severus again. But what would the crass, older version of the seventeen-year-old boy she loved think of her when she admitted to being Danielle, to being his Jane?

Tentatively, the worried girl reached out and took a firm hold on Severus' hand, relaxing as he squeezed her hand back reassuringly.

"I'm going to go find James," Lily said quietly, feeling the unspoken exchange between the two and smiling to herself.

"Alright," Hermione glanced up, smiling weakly. "Goodnight, then, if you can't make it back to my rooms later."

Nodding, Lily picked herself up and tripped off, leaving the two Slytherins to themselves.

"I'm scared, Severus," Hermione admitted softly. "I don't want to go back yet. I'm not ready."

The boy didn't respond, but listened with the strained air of repressed hope.

"I mean… even the thought of seeing the friends of my own time scares me. I… what if they notice? How could they _not_ notice? I've been gone for nearly a year. They're going to know _something's _different about me, if not that I look like I've _aged _a year overnight."

Sighing, the vexed witch leaned against her boyfriend, trailing her fingers through the glimmering snow.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jane," Severus responded in a low murmur. "I can't tell you how your friends are going to react. Next time they see you, it will have been less than 12 hours since the _last_ time. I guess it will just be up to you."

"I don't want to leave regardless," she murmured. "This- I can't… _us_. I don't want to leave _you_. And… I don't want to leave James and Lily, because they're- they're… and everyone else… I can't leave, knowing this is the last time a lot of people will have been truly happy."

The repressed hope decided to become a bit more pronounced in Severus' eyes as he turned towards her, face solemn.

"So don't go back."

"I don't have that choice, Severus," Hermione sighed, kissing the arm wrapped around her apologetically. "If I don't set the spell to bring me back within two hours after the train arrives at the station- regardless of whether I'm on it- it will drag me back."

The little bit of hope flickered out, and Severus sighed again.

"I'm going to miss you terribly, Jane." He raised an eyebrow. "At least, as soon you return, _you_ get to see _me_ immediately."

"I'm terrified," she admitted, laughing hollowly. "Your older self can't stand me. I can't imagine your reaction to finding out who I am."

"Could I at least have a hint?" he joked, a tired, strained smile on his face.

"You know you can't," Hermione sighed again. "I can't change anything from the future- just for the fact that I know already that I didn't, and if I do now, I could create a paradox, or an entirely new world."

He grimaced, tightening his arms around her, and shifted his weight.

"D'you want to go back inside?" she murmured. "It's getting cold."

Nodding, he stood with her and took her hand. The two slowly made their way back inside, their faces masks of somber exhaustion.

* * *

Hermione stared up at the Hogwarts Express in fear, tears coming to her eyes. Severus stood close behind her, an arm supportively around her shoulder, though she suspected she was not the only one in need of support. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were already barreling through the train, looking for an empty compartment for the group to sit in- a young, blue-haired Nymphadora Tonks tailed her cousin Sirius, looking a bit forlorn. A tentative Narcissa even approached them, giving them both fierce hugs before fleeing to sit with the friends her blood status dictated she should have.

"Ready?" Severus murmured in her ear.

"No," she sighed, stepping through the train doors and heading in the direction James and Lily had gone in. "But I suppose it wouldn't be good for everyone to see me disappear for no reason."

They pushed their way through the confusion, looking ahead, hands held tight together. Finally, they broke free of the corridor, falling into the compartment they had just seen Lily and James disappear into. Sirius, already loading his own trunk into the overhead bins, hefted first Hermione's, then Severus' up after it, to the Slytherin's surprise.

The group found their places in the cramped quarters, their expressions varying between Tonk's indifference and Hermione's poorly hidden anxiety, and began to fall into the seats that would mark the end of their career at Hogwarts.

Hours, places, and conversations flitted by, frightening Hermione in their intense speed as the Hogwarts Express grows closer and closer to Platform 9 ¾. Severus continued to steal anxious glances at her, as if she might disappear at any moment- a worry the others didn't realize was equally prevalent in the out-of-time witch's mind. Again, she took his hand, interlocking their fingers, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Lily, by this point, was already asleep, her cheek pressed to James' chest, and no one seemed willing to break the mood of exhausted moroseness that had settled over the compartment. Even Tonks, normally bright and cheerful, had taken on a somber navy blue as a hair color, and stared tiredly at the worn floor.

A hysterical scream built in Hermione's throat as she felt the train slowing beneath them, finally coming to a slow halt on the station platform. Severus stared out the window with wide eyes, as if all the danger of the world lay out there- which, as it _was _the middle of a war, was feasible. The others stood, pulling trunks down from the overhead racks, but Hermione remained seated, eyes riveted to the glass.

"Danielle," Severus murmured sadly, "come on."

Mouth pressed into a straight line- the others may have mistaken this merely as sadness, but she was trying to fight down the impulse to vomit- she stood, taking her trunk in hand. In a line, the group leaked out the door, back into the corridor, off the train, and back into the open air. The sky was a rare cloudless blue, and Hermione couldn't help but scowl at it, feeling as if it should at least show its respect to the life she was about to lose, the lives James, Lily, and Sirius would, the end of purity and goodness. As if to tell her to piss off, two birds flew overhead, chirping happily as they dodged around each other. A scoff escaped her, and she swung her trunk in her hands, wondering how Sirius had not noticed it was empty when he had lifted it to the overhead racks.

A sudden red-headed tackling hug broke her from this line of thought as Lily threw her arms around her.

"I'm going to miss you, Danielle," Lily murmured in her ear. "Promise we'll visit each other?"

She wanted to tell Lily her real name, to give her friend at least that truth before she was killed, but Hermione knew this wasn't feasible. Lily would tell James, who would likely tell Remus or Sirius. Their entire friendship, then, Hermione thought, would have to remain one complete lie.

"I'm going to miss you too, Lily," Hermione whispered, voice cracking. "I'm not sure when I could visit you, but, _please _remember I love you."

Lily gave her an odd look as she pulled away, but nodded regardless. Hermione next hugged James, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks- Peter had mysteriously disappeared, which she thought was probably for the best with her emotional state- before she was left alone with Severus.

"I don't suppose I can make you promise me to visit and write as often as you can," he murmured, taking her hand once more.

"And I don't suppose I can tell you to hold your breath waiting for me to come back," she responded, eyes downcast.

"Yes, well, you could, but I think it would take even longer to see you then, if I were dead."

"I'm sorry, Severus," Hermione whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Gratefully, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

"If you don't have to be anywhere," she said, looking up into his dark eyes, "I have two hours before I have to leave, and I think I'd like to spend them with you."

Nodding wordlessly, he pulled her closer, and with a crack, they both disappeared.

The silently weeping and heartbroken trio of witches observing this event found they were not to follow the couple, but the world turned gray around them as the last given memory of the far past slipped by.

* * *

**Chapter thirteen up... soon. Within a week. I swear it. Just tell me if I should bother or not.**

**irish**


	15. Adaptation

**Title:** Inescapable  
**Chapter:** Adaptation  
**Author:** Irishpiratess  
**Word Count: **5125  
**Genre:** Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).  
**Warnings/Labels:** time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).  
**Summary:** Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Don't sue.

* * *

Wow, look, an update, just like I promised! I'm so proud of myself. I even know what the next chapter's gonna be about! I- I'm just so, so proud of myself right now.

Okay, I'm not, but whatever. Here's your next chapter. Next update soon, but unsure of a date. I have a lot of homework to do this weekend, which will make writing this seem very appealing, so I'll probably get this done then. Enjoy!

* * *

When Tonks, Luna, and Ginny reappeared in the Gryffindor dormitories, it was to find Hermione sobbing relentlessly on one of the familiar four-poster beds- presumably Harry's or Ron's, as the boys and the seventeen year old Ginny were sitting next to her, dumbfounded as to why she was acting so strangely.

"Oh, Hermione, if I'd only known," the present Ginny whispered, shaking her head at the scene.

Harry, Ron and Ginny seemed to be debating amongst themselves about who was to find out what had happened to Hermione. Ginny was silently pointing to herself, giving the boys pointed looks that clearly told them she doubted their ability to be sensitive about it. The boys relented, nodding to Ginny, who attempted to soothingly lure Hermione away from the bed and back to her own dormitory to discuss what was wrong.

"No!" Hermione cried out in a strangled voice. "No, no, I'm fine- I… I've just had a terrible dream, and- I just want to sit with you three."

Looking surprised, the three acquiesced, moving closer to the girl to show their support. Hermione drew herself up into a ball, avoiding their eyes, and buried her face in her knees.

"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. "Erm, I'm not- I don't under- you seem… different."

"I- what do you mean?" Hermione's voice came out strangled and nervously high pitched.

"Well… your robes fit you yesterday… but now they look two sizes too big."

This was true; over the course of the past year, she had worried herself much too much, and often forgot to eat. The result was that it seemed to her friends as if she'd lost fifteen pounds overnight, something that was a dangerous giveaway in her position. She was sure that if she stood at that moment, the hems would be at least an inch too short, as well.

"Oh," she responded, choking on her words. "No, no, these are- these are just different robes."

"No, they're not," Ron frowned. "Neville spilled that potion on your sleeve last week, and he tried to scourgify it, but it turned that spot white. Look, it's right there."

Sure enough, there was a small but highly visible white spot on her sleeve, right near her elbow. Panic rose in her throat, and she covered her face more thoroughly.

"I don't know, Ron." Hermione sniffled, sitting up. "I'm sorry I'm acting so- I just mi- I'm sorry."

The three teens awkwardly arranged themselves around the sobbing girl, seeming confused. Harry and Ron sent each other confused glances, and Ginny merely shrugged, shaking her head, before leaning on her boyfriend.

The present Ginny's breath caught in her throat, unable to avoid staring at herself with her would-be husband any longer. Slowly, she padded over the couple, eyes growing wide.

"Gin…" Tonks called out, a warning tone to her voice. "Don't… do anything you'll…"

But the metamorphmagus didn't have the heart to finish, the protective instinct she felt towards the younger woman flickering away at the transfixed look on Ginny's face. Ginny quietly sat on the bed next to Harry, positioning herself so that she could closely see the looks on both his face and her own.

"Ron was wrong," she said quietly, voice heavy. "We did love each other, very much."

Neither of the witches knew what to say, and so didn't say anything at all.

* * *

"Come _on_, Hermione. Merlin, if you're going to make us late for the first time in the entirety of our school career, does it _have _to be Snape's class?"

Hermione gave Ron a dark look, clearly annoyed by the boy. He, of course, was oblivious, and merely grabbed her hand, swiped her bag off the Common Room ground, and pulled her out the portrait hole. Harry and Ginny were already waiting out in the corridor, saying goodbye before Ginny headed off to her own classes.

It was the first day since Hermione had returned to the present, and she could not find the will to leave the Common Room, weighed down by a sense of simultaneous loss- of the seventeen year old boy she had loved- and utter dread at finding what she _had_ left behind the day before, with twenty years to stagnate in his _own _loss. The dread, in particular, was palpable; or so it seemed to her, and to the three witches who knew what she had been through.

Harry and Ron, of course, could not feel it, and merely continued on their way to class, throwing in the occasional insult to the Potions-Master-turned-Defense-teacher. A flicker of hurt danced across Hermione's face each time her friends carelessly tossed another cruel-minded jab out, but she didn't say anything.

"What's got you all down, 'Mione?" Ron asked. "You've been all weird since yesterday. You were fine until you went to talk with Dumbledore's portrait."

Hermione continued walking, not answering, nor even seeming to realize Ron was talking to her.

"Hermione?" Harry chimed in, with slightly more tact. "You alright?"

"I- what?" Her eyes grew wide as she realized that she hadn't been answering to her own name. "Y-yes, yes, I'm fine. Just a little distracted."

Harry frowned thoughtfully, opening the door to the Defense classroom. Ron quickly ducked through after him, holding the door for his girlfriend, but she faltered at the threshold, seeming uncertain. Steeling herself, she ducked her eyes and hurried in. Feeling herself fall back into the familiar pattern she'd followed for so long, she immediately turned to the right of the classroom, sitting in the middle row.

"Hermione? _What _are you doing?" Ron gaped at her. "That's the _Slytherin_ side."

Cursing, the addled witch immediately hopped up, crossing the aisle and sitting instead in the same desk James, Sirius and Peter had always occupied. A smirk grew on her face as she remembered the love-struck way Sirius had glanced back at Remus, before it quickly fell away, her face turning white.

Sirius was _dead_.

"Oh, God," Hermione breathed. She managed to jump to her feet and run halfway to the door before she fell to the ground.

* * *

"However would _I _know, Poppy? It's not as if Miss Granger and I were close, personal friends." A sour voice washed over Hermione's senses, setting off some dire signal in her mind.

"I would certainly hope _not_- it couldn't possibly be a very healthy friendship for her, now, would it." Madame Pompfrey's voice floated back, clucking reproachfully with a somewhat joking tone. "You being so _pleasant_."

"Yes, quite," the sour voice responded. "Do you need me for anything_ more_, Madame?"

"No, I think we're alright here now. Thank you for bringing up the extra Pepper-Up potions, Severus."

"I don't see why you couldn't have Horace do it. He _is_ the Potions professor, is he not?"

"Yes, but _you're_ the Potions _Master_, dear, even if you are teaching Defense. There must be _some _reason you're accredited that title and he isn't."

Hermione blinked slowly, suddenly realizing that she must be in the Hospital Wing, and that the familiar voice she heard was the older, sour version of the one she already missed.

"Are you alright, dear?" Madame Pompfrey asked her. "You seem agitated."

"I- no, no, I'm fine. What time is it?"

"Lunch has just begun, dear, but you're not going anywhere until we find out why you're fainting."

The matron quickly bustled over to Hermione's bed and began waving her wand in complicated motions that Hermione was sure were supposed to be diagnostic.

"I don't see any reason why you should've lost consciousness like that, dear. Do you remember what happened?"

"I- no, I don't know why, I just-"

Unbidden, Hermione's gaze flickered to Severus, who stood a few feet from the end of her bed, looking at her with a disaffected air. A sudden pang in her chest had her averting her eyes, and the girl looked back to Madame Pompfrey.

"I suppose it's just stress, Madame Pompfrey. I'm sorry to worry you," she murmured.

"Oh, now, now, dear, it's alright." The woman sighed in aggravation. "I don't understand _how_ you teachers-" here she directed her dark gaze at Severus- "can still be piling _so _much work on you when there's already so much to be worried about-"

And Hermione tuned her out, eyes sliding back to her Defense teacher. Unconsciously, she reached up, tugging at a lock of her curly hair, chewing her lip in worry. If anything, the three witches observing thought she looked as if her teacher might attack at any moment, and it seemed he thought so, as well.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, you need not appear so frightened," he sneered at her. "I am not nearly so-"

But he trailed off, eyes narrowed and focused on how she twirled her hair, at how, while her body language definitely gave off a frightened air, the look in her eyes seemed to be pleading.

"I am not nearly so dangerous as some of the more incompetent fools you call friends," he finished softly.

"Severus, don't be crass with the girl, she's under a lot of stress," Madame Pompfrey harrumphed, shooing him away. "Thank you again for the potions. I won't keep you any longer."

Giving a curt nod, Severus quickly turned on his heel and disappeared from the room.

"Now, dear," the matron sighed. "Why don't you just eat lunch up here, and then you can go back to Gryffindor Tower and rest up for the rest of the day? You'll probably need it."

* * *

_Oct. 18th, 197- 1997_

_I can't help myself. It's as if the past year took over the rest of my life. I haven't been answering to my own name all week, and I can't reconcile that it's 1997 now. It doesn't feel like it. I still feel as if I'm only just graduating between Warren Paddington and Lawrence Parkinson, wearing those forsaken green robes and booing as Gryffindor got the House Cup. This doesn't seem _right

_I fainted when I realized Sirius was dead the first day back. It wasn't enough that I sat in my Slytherin seat- thank _Merlin_ Severus wasn't there to see that, or he'd know who I was immediately- but sitting in Padfoot's, thinking of how he drooled over Moony, while Harry sat next to me in James' seat and Ron in Peter's… It wasn't enough to lose him when I'd only known him as the haunted fugitive, but having known him as he was, as the carefree seventeen year old boy who still thought the most important thing was making sure his team won the Quidditch match? And Peter, my God, Peter- he was such a sweet boy all year, and I can't imagine how he fell into Voldemort's trap, I just _can't_- knowing that he's serving Voldemort as we speak sickens me, because he was the boy I helped with Transfiguration homework, who loved the cookies I baked and never said a mean thing to me or my Slytherin friends. And James and Lily- God, looking at Harry and Ginny together is painful, because it reminds me of them, and knowing they're going to have the life James and Lily_ should _have had is so painful. I could have prevented it. I could have given them the life they deserved, and Harry the one he's always wanted- free of the ever-specific danger he's always in, with loving parents to care for him and make sure he's properly fed. _

_Seeing Severus was especially painful. He made some snide comment about how I was staring at him like he'd bite my head off any second- but I swear, there was one second, just one, where he recognized me. What am I doing? How could I have done that to Ron? How can I still be _with_ Ron? He's nothing like Severus was- he's so tactless and oblivious, and I can't take that. I need my Severus back._

_Tonight, I have to go retrieve the quill and the goblet from where I left them. It shouldn't be too difficult, but I am still nervous. We're not supposed to leave Gryffindor Tower in groups of less than four, and I'm going to be wandering around the dark grounds by myself in the middle of the night._

_I have the first Defense class after my fainting spell tomorrow. I don't know what in Merlin's name I'm going to do.

* * *

_

A pair of watery brown eyes remained transfixed on one certain line in the dusty old journal- _knowing they're going to have the life James and Lily should have had_- unable to see any of the elegant script around it. Ginny drew in a shaky breath, finding she envied Lily in that, in her death, she was able to spend her afterlife with James, and could watch over Harry. Ginny could not say the same. Her James had left her behind, and her Harry had never opened his eyes.

Tonks and Luna sat on Ginny's couch, sipping her muggle beer and talking in low tones.

"I'm worried about her," Tonks murmured. "The few memories in the beginning were bad enough- but now she's going to get a year's worth of seeing him. I can't believe we're doing this. I know she had that dream again last night, and Hermione's memory only just mentioned Horcruxes being evil- how is she going to take the rest of the memories?"

"I spoke to Hermione before we went back in," Luna responded, nodding in agreement. "I told her she was being very selfish by not just telling us all who Sarah's father is and getting it over with. Ginny may have it the worst, but it's not exactly easy for the rest of us to relive the War, either."

Tonks carefully examined the inside of her bottle, avoiding this statement.

"Ahh," Luna observed quietly. "You're worried about Hermione's interaction with Remus."

"I- how did you jump from Ginny being upset to that?"

"You avoided my eye when I said it wasn't easy for any of us, implying there was something making _you_ uneasy. Since you didn't lose any immediate family members, it's easy to assume it's because of your relationship with Remus."

"I'm a married woman, Luna," Tonks growled, letting her head fall back to the back of the couch. "And Remus and I were together very briefly, a long time ago. And… you need to stop jumping to conclusions with people's feelings like that. It's very disconcerting."

"Because I'm right?"

"Because it's… just stop."

Luna shrugged, levitating the beer out of her bottle and twirling the liquid around in patterns in the air, before darting forward and catching it in her mouth. Tonks tried not to sigh at the fact that Luna's behavior no longer surprised her.

"What about Hermione's interaction with Remus are you anxious to know about?" Luna asked casually.

"What about Hermione's interaction with- none of it! I have no right to be anxious about it."

"Which is not synonymous with 'I am _not_ anxious about it.'"

"Shut up, Luna."

Shrugging, the blonde woman acquiesced, deciding to let the subject go- for _once_, Tonks thought with annoyed relief.

* * *

The air was sharp and wound in icy tendrils around Hermione's ankles as she stumbled across the dark grounds. The cold was somewhat inhibited by the invisibility cloak, but not enough to keep her from wishing she'd brought a heavier one to wear under it.

It was very irresponsible, she thought, for Harry not to notice when someone knicked a priceless heirloom of his.

Making her way through the dark, Hermione finally came within sight of the Whomping Williow, and gave a short huff, hurrying towards it. Levitating a stone to press the knot, she ducked under the frozen branches and into the secret passage. Though she couldn't boast as to being as tall as the boys, she still had to duck in the small corridor that had been too cramped when she was 14. But, eventually, it leveled out, and she emerged in the Shrieking Shack.

Unaware of the three witches watching the memory, Hermione climbed the dirty, rotted stairs and pushed open the door to the bedroom, a look of distaste spreading over an otherwise expressionless face. If only they had caught Peter, Sirius would still be alive. If she had only done something, Peter would have never had become the type to be caught. But so it was, and with a weary sigh, Hermione raised her wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she recited.

A cloud of dust burst into the air as the old, moth-eaten bed rose up and groaned its way to the opposite wall. A vacant spot was left in its place, and the shivering, grim witch heard the anxious squeaks of rats scampering back into the cracks in the walls. A shudder ripped through her as she was reminded uneasily of the present Wormtail. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, she cast a privacy charm on the house, as well as constructing a quick ward. It was shabby, but for a half hour at least, it would should at least hinder the entrance of any intruders.

With the heavy bed out of the way, Hermione stalked to the middle of the dustless square, eyes riveted to the floorboards. Directing her wand to them, she murmured something Tonks, Luna and Ginny couldn't catch- a spot on one floorboard flashed gold, an intricately carved letter H appearing on it. Hermione knelt next to it and yanked up her left sleeve, extracting a small dagger from her pocket.

"She isn't-" Ginny began to say, eyes wide, but was cut off as Hermione let out a stifled, high-pitched cry. Ginny groaned.

For a moment, Hermione held the dagger flat against the cut, letting her blood well against it. When she apparently decided she had recovered, she took the knife, now dripping with her blood, and stabbed it into the glowing H on the floor. Immediately, it seemed to seep into the gold letter, and the glow faded, finally showing the H as if it were a scorch mark on the floor. The shivering, bleeding witch took out a bandage and tied it around her arm, before prying up the loose board with her shaking hands.

Ginny, Luna and Tonks couldn't see what she did next, but when Hermione lifted the contents of the warded hiding place out, they saw an opened box; more importantly, the tops of a glittering feather and a dazzling goblet.

"The Horcruxes," Ginny breathed, stepping closer to peer over the witch's shoulder.

A creak in the hallway had Hermione's gaze shooting to the open door. No one seemed to be there, but she shot to her feet, cradling her package to her chest. A quick spell shot from her lips, and a red flash told her the ward around the hiding place beneath the floorboards was back in place- if a Death Eater could find traces of the Horcruxes' potent magic that had seeped into the warded spot over the past 20 years, let alone her own magical signature, there would be serious consequences. Within ten seconds, she had spare blood drops cleaned from the floor, the bed replaced, the dagger tucked away, and the box swaddled in the invisibility cloak against her chest.

"Hacidius Pur," she commanded, voice high with nerves, and the room was swathed in a white light. Before it could fade, she disappeared with a nearly inaudible crack.

The witches appeared in a dark alley- one they recognized to be behind the Hog's Head. Hermione uncovered the box and wrapped the cloak around herself once again- Tonks, Luna, and Ginny still saw the faint glow of the girl they were meant to follow- and exited the alley, creeping towards the street.

They emerged into the open, cold, late October air, and immediately set off back towards the school. Hermione let out a huff of annoyance at having to walk back up to the school in the dark, but clutched her concealed contraband closer, adrenaline pumping through her at what she knew was probably a false alarm.

Finally, after reentering the school and winding through the dark hallways, Hermione came to a stop and whispered a password to a portrait in the hall.

"Danielle, dear? Is that you? Why, I never thought you were-"

"Hush, Florence, please, just let me in," Hermione begged.

With a look of surprise at the trembling, disembodied voice asking for entrance, Florence the Flighty swung open to admit the girl she'd housed 19 years before.

Wards were recast before Hermione even took a look at the rooms she'd left only a week- or two decades- before. But a flash of silver interrupted her casting, and a pang of pain hollowed her chest. She knew that magic. Wards had been cast, recently if the strength of them was any indication.

"Oh, Severus," she murmured, the smiling face of the 17 year old swimming in her mind's eye.

Lights flared to life at her voice, the soft glow of fire emanating from brackets on the walls.

Hermione stopped breathing for a moment, eyes hungrily absorbing every detail. There was not a speck of dust in the place; she might have left it only that morning. Her record player sat in the corner of the kitchen, but she could see that the records were not in the same order they'd been when she'd left them- where she had left a Beach Boys album in the front of the crate, Eric Clapton now rested. When she cast her eyes back to the living room, she saw the carefully arranged row of bottles on the mantle. 13, she counted swiftly, and ducked her head, biting her lip sadly.

Slowly, she sank into the couch, letting out a tired breath. Again, she opened the box and set the deceptively innocent looking objects on the table. Another two decades had not diminished their beauty, and Hermione felt the urge to pick up the quill and begin writing.

"_Accio __Destroying the Darkness_," she murmured.

The library door clicked open, and a thick tome flew out to her outstretched hand. She began rifling through, settling on a marked page.

"_Accio parchment. Accio quill_," she murmured again, not taking her eyes from the book.

She began scrawling down what looked to be a list of ingredients, among them ground basilisk fangs, phoenix tears, ashwinder eggs, and two hairs from the coat of an erumpent. She paled as the list grew longer, but continued on.

"This'll cost a fortune!" Tonks cried, eyes wide as she read the list over Hermione's shoulder.

"I don't understand," Ginny said. "The diary only needed a basilisk fang through it to destroy it. Why do these need a potion?"

"The diary was diluted," Luna responded quietly. "It also held your soul in it, with less of Riddle's. Your soul was pure and more willing to leave the diary, and to take Riddle's with it, where these have only Riddle's soul, which will not willingly abandon their shell at all. Therefore, they need more than just basilisk venom to destroy them."

The other two glanced at her, blank looks on their faces. She waved the diary at them.

When Hermione finished copying the extensive list of ingredients, she tucked the parchment into her robes and replaced the book. Then, settling the Horcruxes back into their case, she closed the lid.

"Pretty box for such evil contents," Luna murmured.

The other two nodded lightly, eyes falling to the box. The lid was onyx and delicately carved, and now, in their own time, was home to less evil, but still dangerous contents- so dangerous, in fact, that they had been long imprisoned behind a wall of books and heavy tomes.

* * *

When Tonks, Ginny and Luna were thrust into the next memory, it was of Hermione in her first class of the next day- Transfiguration. The class was nearly over, and McGonagall stood at the front, addressing her students.

"As you know, apprenticeships are available to seventh years students. Myself and the rest of the staff, excluding Professors Trelawney and Firenze, are accepting applications for those qualified students who are interested. The most qualified student-" Here, her eyes grazed over her favorite bushy-haired student, looking so uncharacteristically tired and unenthusiastic- "will be selected."

The Headmistress flicked her wand, and parchments darted to each student's desk.

"Professor?" Harry asked, confusion coloring his tone. "If Snape teaches Defense, why is he listed as accepting apprentices for Potions?"

"_Professor_ Snape is still the Potions Master, Mister Potter. As such, he is more qualified to take an apprentice than Professor Slughorn, who does not wish to begin an apprenticeship regardless. In this case, former Professor Lupin, who is an accomplished duelist and near master of Defense, will be taking an apprentice for that subject."

A look of profound relief and satisfaction seeped across his features. Hermione's eyes fixated on Severus' name, brow furrowing, and Ginny's widened in understanding.

"Those ingredients," she murmured to Tonks. "As Potions apprentice, she'd have access to them, wouldn't she?"

Tonks nodded, smiling grimly.

* * *

If anyone noticed the sudden way Hermione paled as Professor Snape swept into the Defense classroom, they did not notice it. If a single student could see and understand the way her eyes suddenly watered, or how red the back of her neck turned, they chose to keep it to themselves. Harry and Ron _did _notice that Hermione did not raise her hand once, not even when no other student could answer, and sent her confused glances, but no more- her behavior was strange lately, and they reasoned that it must be the stress of the war finally catching up to her.

* * *

Severus Snape did not reason the same, and frowned as he turned to flick his wand at the board, his spidery handwriting scrawling across the board. For the past seven years, he had taken it for granted that Hermione would be a persistent nuisance, always the idyllic overeager student. Perhaps Minerva could see this as a blessing, but Severus only saw it as an annoyance. But she had been persistently _odd_ the past week- he had noticed how drawn and _small_ she looked, how her robes seemed to pool around her, much too big. She had fainted in his last class and allowed Poppy to excuse her from the rest of the day's classes- something unprecedented for the overzealous bookworm. And today, she huddled in her seat, looking directly at him, but not answering a single question- he was unsure she was even really paying attention. She had the look in her eyes of someone very far away that comes to be a familiar sight to any teacher.

But there was something about her stare that was different from any other student with a wandering mind. Some unusual quality, an unusual sharpness, how her eyes always followed him, but never seemed to understand what they were seeing. He couldn't tell why this was different from any other incompetent fool of a student who couldn't pay attention for longer than it took to open a book to the correct page, or why he even noticed the difference in her, but it unnerved him.

His composure suddenly slipped, eyes growing wide, as the sight of her staring up at him from the hospital bed flashed in front of his eyes, seeming strangely familiar. Little habits that the girl had began filing through his mind in an orderly way, streaming through his train of thought without his permission.

With a forceful shove, he shuttered his mind, becoming devoid of emotion as his Occlumency shields were reinforced. With nothing more than a small, steady breath, he continued on with the class.

* * *

Hermione hovered at the back of McGonagall's office, shrouded in the invisibility cloak- still stolen, unnoticed, from Harry- nervously eyeing the outraged face of Severus Snape.

"Have to?" He repeated bluntly, a tone of disbelief shading his cold voice. "Minerva, I don't _have to _do anything."

"As Master of your subject, it is in your duties to train an apprentice, should one be willing. Of course, you've always managed to avoid it before, but Miss Granger seems undeterred by your… particular style of teaching."

The black clad man froze, going very silent for a moment, before continuing as if he hadn't.

"Miss Granger?" Severus scoffed in disbelief, his voice sounding slightly anxious beneath the practiced nonchalance. "Why on Earth would she want to pursue a career in Potions? She never showed any special brand of enthusiasm for it before."

"She has informed me that she wishes to dedicate herself to helping to protect as many lives as she can," McGonagall replied, her voice stiff.

"Then why doesn't she become _Poppy's _apprentice, for Merlin's sake?"

"She wishes to improve on certain healing potions, and possibly to create new protective potions," the annoyed Headmistress replied dismissively. "In any case, your arguments are useless, Severus. You have no choice in the matter. You _will_ take on Miss Granger as an apprentice, starting the first."

A snarl threatened to tear its way from his throat, but Severus controlled himself. With a curt nod, he swept from the office, ignorant of the invisible witch at his heels.

* * *

Slowly, Miss Granger seemed to return, if not to normal for _her_, normal by any other student's standards. Severus loathed that he even noticed her behavior, but shrugged this off. She was no longer outspoken and eager to prove herself in his classes, but she took notes studiously and paid attention. Strangely, though, she avoided looking at or talking directly to Potter or the Weasleys, choosing instead to keep quietly to herself.

What Severus loathed more than the fact that he _noticed_ Miss Granger's behavior was that it was November 1st, which meant that tonight, he began lessons with her, training her to become his apprentice. It was three hours every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday too much of the Gryffindor, and he inwardly cursed Minerva her insistence on taking this apprenticeship. It was true that, as Potions Master, he _did_ have to train the most qualified willing apprentice- but this had never been a problem before. It had always been- _correctly_- assumed by the 7th year students that Professor Snape did not want an apprentice, and so, each October, he received no applications. Sneering, he wondered what could cause Miss Granger to break this comfortable pattern. Her every action had been strange lately, and he wondered if the stress of the war had finally cracked the girl- but that didn't seem right. Again, her face that night in the infirmary flashed in his mind, and he frowned once more.

With a sigh, the overstressed Potions Master rearranged the papers on his desk, mentally preparing himself for his first session with Miss Granger.


End file.
